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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25333033">Living Memory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seuris/pseuds/Seuris'>Seuris</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songspinner/pseuds/Songspinner'>Songspinner</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Consensual Possession, Ghosts, M/M, Paranormal Investigators, Sign Language</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:00:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25333033</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seuris/pseuds/Seuris, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songspinner/pseuds/Songspinner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Claude runs a blog debunking all kinds of urban legends, paranormal phenomena, and local superstitions, from hauntings to cryptids and everything in between. When he meets a real, actual ghost, he finds all sorts of things he never thought he would: something to believe in, magic, a secret history--and love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Boar Prince</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This takes place in a modern setting that is the far-flung future of Fódlan.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ghosts don’t exist.</p><p>That’s what Claude has always believed: they’re a superstition, a bedtime story, something to scare the gullible and thrill the imagination--nothing more. And in all his nineteen years, he’s never seen a shred of evidence to suggest he’s wrong. Which is why, with the help of his best friend Hilda, he started his paranormal investigation blog.</p><p>Ever since he graduated high school, he’s been traveling around to hunt down urban legends and haunted houses, and dispel the darkness surrounding them with the bright light of truth. He’s spent the night in abandoned prisons, chased eerie lights through swamps and forests, attended so-called séances and interviewed so-called mediums, and captured all manner of supposedly otherworldly phenomena on camera to unveil their completely mundane explanations. Each week, he publishes these debunkings to his blog, regardless of the arguments and hate mail and accusations of falsifying evidence he receives daily. That’s the internet for you, he always says, ignoring them to the best of his ability as he continues to uncover the secrets behind things that go bump in the night.</p><p>And that is how he finds himself breaking into this ancient, decrepit castle on a hilltop in the middle of nowhere at eleven o’clock at night, the crumbling remnants of stone walls denoting where the structure’s surrounding town probably stood. A local legend speaks of the ghost of the infamous Boar Prince that has haunted this castle for centuries. Terrifying in countenance and enraged by anyone who comes near, they say. Trapped inside by the chains of the heinous deeds he performed in life, the bloody swath he cut across the land in a fierce war long ago, the details of which are lost to history. And of course, the best time to find a “ghost” is after dark.</p><p>Claude knows it will turn out to be smoke, mirrors, and someone’s love of an old story gone haywire, but he has to admit that getting to explore an old ruin that no one’s dared to touch all this time is exciting. Flashlight held between his teeth, he quietly picks the lock on the servants’ entrance at the back of the building and pushes open the heavy door. Taking the flashlight in hand, he steps inside and traverses the dusty, narrow corridors until he comes out in a dilapidated grand foyer, with two curved staircases leading up to the second floor underneath a magnificent--if caked with grime--stained glass window. It depicts a scene that definitely looks religious in some fashion, but doesn’t seem to reflect any religion Claude’s familiar with. Some kind of lost cult, maybe?</p><p>He takes pictures of everything as he crosses the foyer and climbs the stairs. Many of the doors he passes are closed, and he leaves them be for now, as he spots a thin shaft of moonlight spilling into the hall from a room near the far end.</p><p>When he peers in through the doorway, he has to suppress a startled gasp--he’s not alone here.</p><p>There’s a boy with golden-blond hair standing at the window, staring up into the starry sky with his arms folded on the sill, completely silent. Claude barely dares to breathe as he lifts his phone to snap a photo, with his flashlight’s beam cutting through the dark room and the flash lighting it all up for a split second.</p><p>“Hey there,” he says in a friendly tone, once he brings his phone back down again. “I didn’t think I’d find anyone else here tonight. Some coincidence, huh?”</p><p>The flash doesn't seem to catch the boy's attention, but Claude's voice does. As he whirls to face this unexpected newcomer, the old drapes framing the high window are caught in a blast of wind, unbearably frigid for this time of year. But the breeze dies down as quickly as it came, and the room falls back into silence. "How did you get in?" the boy asks, eyes wide--not quite with fear, but his apprehension is obvious.</p><p>Claude shivers in the sudden gust of cold wind--it definitely wasn't that cold outside when he came in, and definitely <em>shouldn't</em> be--but the look on the boy's face is what really catches his attention. <em>He's probably afraid of getting caught sneaking in.</em> "Through the back door," he jerks a thumb over his shoulder in that direction. "I'm curious about how <em>you</em> got in, though--I didn't see any open doors or broken windows. But don't worry, I'm not gonna bust you--I'm not supposed to be here either." He gives the boy a wink.</p><p>"Clearly not." The boy observes Claude closely; his arms draw close to his own chest and grip tightly at his sleeves. "So you're... one of them, those explorers, are you? All of worth here has been taken already, so what is it you want here?"</p><p>"Huh?" Claude tilts his head. "Well, I <em>thought</em> it was the same thing you wanted here--to investigate this supposedly haunted castle. Now I'm not so sure."</p><p>The boy goes silent, but his eyes move away only for a second. He doesn't seem to contemplate long, and after a second, moves further into the room (though not without giving Claude a wide berth) to perch on the edge of the bed there. The sheets are in tatters and caked in layers of dust and mold, not that he seems to mind it at all. "...it isn't as if I can stop you." His brow furrows. "But know that there will be consequences, should you see fit to take anything."</p><p><em>Something's off here. This guy's talking like he lives here or something, but that's obviously impossible.</em> Claude puts up his hands in a surrender gesture, although he's got the flashlight in one of them and the phone in the other. "Whoa, okay, sheesh. I wasn't planning to. I'm just here to debunk these ridiculous stories about the ghost of the Boar Prince. It's what I do."</p><p>Something seems to spark in the boy at the mention, though from the look on his face and the hesitation in his words, what he says isn't quite what he wished to say, not at first. "Could you do so elsewhere, at least?"</p><p>Claude's brow furrows. <em>So he's just going to sit here by himself in this run-down ruin? What's he even doing here?</em> "If that's what you want." Well, this would hardly be the first time someone didn't want Claude around for no good reason. He sighs quietly to himself, but outwardly smiles. "Feel free to come find me if you change your mind, though. My name's Claude."</p><p>The boy looks to Claude, then away again, pulling in his bottom lip to chew. "Dimitri," he says, after what seems to be a great deal of consideration. "...go with care, Claude."</p><p>Claude's smile grows a bit more genuine. "Same to you, Dimitri." He turns to go, but glances back. "Are you sure you'll be okay by yourself up here? This place isn't exactly in tip-top condition."</p><p>"I'll be fine. I... am here often. You would be best off worrying more for yourself." Dimitri tries for his own smile, or some imitation of it, anyway; it's strained, a little awkward. "Be... be mindful, that's all."</p><p>"Don't worry about me--I do this kind of thing all the time." Claude gives the boy a wave. "See you around." With that, he's off to investigate the rest of the castle, though he doesn't find anything remotely like a haunting, false or otherwise. He ends up leaving with nothing but the nagging feeling that he needs to find out what Dimitri's deal is. That's a guy with secrets if Claude's ever seen one, and he's determined to find out what they are in the process of disproving this latest ghost story.</p>
<hr/><p>Claude returns to the ruin a few days later, after having tried to figure out who this Dimitri is without success--neither Google nor the local library has any record of someone named Dimitri matching the boy's description in this city. He figures once he solves the case of the mysterious Boar Prince and posts it up on the blog, maybe Dimitri or someone he knows will read it and contact him. So he waits until well after sundown again and makes his way back to the castle, intending this time to stay until he finds something he can use. He comes through the same door as before and makes his way methodically from one room to another, searching for any sign of what other people would call a ghost.</p><p>This time, it isn't the bedroom at the end of the hall, but an inconspicuous door on the way there that opens to reveal that Claude, once more, has company here. The room looks to be a library--a grand one, once upon a time. Its ceilings are high and the bookshelves inside nearly just as tall, though there are few with shelves intact, and fewer still that hold any books. Even with the shelves as they are, moved and placed oddly within the room, a sliver of candlelight just barely flickers through the gaps between the bookshelves... before snuffing out completely. The library sinks quickly back into darkness, save the faintest hint of moonlight from the high windows of the far wall.</p><p><strong><em>Flash</em></strong> goes the phone camera, lighting up the vast, dark room in brief bursts, before Claude slowly ventures farther inside with his flashlight at the ready. "Hello?" he calls, not too loudly, as he makes his way step by step toward where he saw the candle flame, shining his light into every corner. "Anybody home?"</p><p>When Claude gets his answer, it comes not from within the room, but from behind him, back closer to the doorway. "... Claude?" There's hesitation when he calls out, a hint of confusion, but soon Dimitri wanders into view... though devoid of any lights of his own.</p><p>Claude whirls, shining his flashlight at the source of the voice behind him. "Gah!" Then recognition sets in, and he exhales in relief. "Geez, don't sneak up on me like that!" He walks back the way he came, closer to Dimitri.</p><p>"I... hadn't expected I would see you again, so soon. It <em>is</em> Claude, is it not?"</p><p>"Yep, that's me. And you're Dimitri. And you're...wandering around here by yourself again. Without a flashlight."</p><p>"As opposed to... wandering around with someone else?" As if it needs emphasis, the boy takes quite the theatrical glance around the room, and the maze of decrepit bookcases before them; Claude rolls his eyes. "Light that bright tends to... hurt my eyes, I suppose. It's--it's easier for me to go without, especially with all of this moonlight." Another pause, briefer, but Dimitri becomes almost sheepish when he speaks up next: "I... really didn't think you would come back."</p><p>Claude hastily points his flashlight away from Dimitri. "Oh--sorry. Wait, why <em>wouldn't</em> I come back? I didn't find anything last time--not a single spooky noise or suspiciously realistic painting." He grins, but then it falters. "Are you sure you're the only other one here? I definitely saw a candle burning over there a minute ago." He gestures toward a bookshelf deeper into the room. "And what are you doing here, anyway?"</p><p>"Well... if that's the sort of thing you're looking for, you may have found it. I'm the only one here, and I haven't lit any candles this night." Dimitri moves, picking his way through books strewn about the floor and toward the shelves, weaving his way through to pass further into the room. "... I live here. More or less."</p><p>"What?" Claude follows Dimitri doggedly, keeping his flashlight pointed at the floor to avoid both tripping over books and making the other boy uncomfortable. "What do you mean, you live here? This place has been a ruin for centuries, nobody lives here."</p><p>"I'm sorry to say that you're wrong—because I live here." It's a cool insistence, calm, and Dimitri moves to sit on the lounge in the center of the room, a space slightly clearer than its surroundings and... mostly intact, at the least. "Though you're probably the first to see me and not mistake me for the Boar Prince. That's what you said you were here for, after all. Right? To... debunk this haunting, you said?"</p><p>Claude gives Dimitri a skeptical look. He's been in nearly every intact room of this castle by now, and he's never seen a single piece of evidence to suggest that this boy could possibly live here. There isn't any food, for one thing, nor are there any lights. No running water, no electricity. But he can't deny that Dimitri at least seems to know his way around...Claude follows him all the way to the lounge and sits on the other side. "That's right. I don't see how I'd mistake <em>you</em> for the ghost, though. Especially since there's no such thing." He smirks. "Unless you've seen it? If you really do live here, and it really is haunted, then you must have met this Boar Prince, right?"</p><p>"I haven't met him, no. He doesn't exist." There's wariness in Dimitri's eyes when Claude approaches, but he makes no move to warn him away from sitting, even if he seems to stiffen. "Or, he does, but not as a ghost. A real one, I suppose. I will be candid with you, Claude, and say that I don't enjoy having others come... come traipsing about in here, poking and prodding into whatever they may well please. Perhaps the Boar Prince isn't a ghost, but he certainly helps to keep even the most determined of you all away... or he did, I suppose."</p><p>There's a part of Claude that feels a little bad for intruding on Dimitri's space, even if he had no way of knowing it <em>was</em> Dimitri's space, but it's drowned out by the burning need to get to the bottom of this...and to find out why someone would want to live in a ruin and ward off all visitors. The guy can't be happy like this, can he? "Really? That's weird, because hearing about him only made me want to come here more. But I'm glad I'm not the only one who doesn't believe in that nonsense." He switches the flashlight off and casually tosses it up and down in one hand. It's hard to see much of anything now, even Dimitri, in the meager moonlight, but he'd rather that than make the strange boy less likely to let him stay. "I'll leave if you insist, but...why do you want to be left alone so badly? Aren't you lonely here?"</p><p>"Should I be?" It's an odd question, and Dimitri quickly takes a step back to reconsider. "It isn't as if it stops people from coming. But it gives them something to fear, once they hear strange sounds, see odd things, experience odd sensations..." A hand comes to Dimitri's face, and the boy rubs at his eyes. "I have no doubt you've been brought here by many things. Hearing of a ghost, a monster... whatever you wish to call him, your Boar Prince is more akin to an excuse to rid myself of unexpected guests, really."</p><p>"So all those strange sounds and odd sensations are just you messing with people. I have to admit, I've never heard that one before." Claude gives Dimitri a broad smile, with a bit of mischief in it. "What if I tell you ahead of time when I'm planning to come back? Then I wouldn't be an unexpected guest, right?"</p><p>Dimitri's only response is a blink, for a few seconds of silence. "Knowing the Boar Prince is not real, why would you return?"</p><p>"I never thought he was real in the first place. But now I know <em>you're</em> here, and you're much more interesting." Claude shifts a bit on the cushion, leaning his elbow on the back of the lounge and resting his chin in his palm. "You're a mystery, and I can't resist mysteries."</p><p>"... I am not merely some mystery for you to entertain yourself with." Dimitri can't quite keep the accusation out of his tone now, and he stands abruptly. "I may not be able to stop anyone from coming here, but I would rather you didn't return, if that's how you see me."</p><p>Claude's face falls. "Hey, that isn't what I meant. ...though I can see why you thought so. I'm sorry--that was insensitive of me." He stands, too. "What I meant was, I'd like to get to know you better. Your life really <em>does</em> sound lonely, you know. I'm sure you have your reasons for chasing everyone away, but you don't seem happy to me."</p><p>Dimitri makes a valiant effort, but deflates quickly after hearing that. His eyes drop to the floor; he seems to consider a pile of books at his feet more than the conversation at hand, but Claude isn't waiting long for his response. "No, I apologize. It is... overwhelming sometimes, when the only visitors I get care very little for this place." He glances to the windows then, just barely visible between the shelves. "... it's quite late. You should consider going for now, Claude."</p><p>A sudden twin pang of guilt and sympathy hits Claude as he realizes that in some ways, he might as well be looking into a mirror. An outsider whom everyone views as a curiosity at best, a menace more often...no wonder Dimitri decided to make a habit of giving people what they expect to find to keep them at a distance. Claude's done the same thing for most of his life, just...not so literally. "...sure." He hesitates, though. "Would you mind if I came back tomorrow night to hear your story? Or, if you want, I could tell you mine."</p><p>Dimitri doesn't answer right away; he finds his way back through hills of books and reaches the door before he stops, though the glance he sends Claude is little more than a furtive look over his shoulder. "I wouldn't mind," he says eventually, low.</p><p>Claude follows Dimitri back to the doorway, suddenly aware that he's not sure he could have easily found his way back out of there without the help, even with the flashlight. He smiles at the response. "Then I'll see you tomorrow--" But Dimitri doesn't stay for the pleasantry, stepping out into the hall and disappearing past the doorframe. Claude turns his flashlight back on before hurrying after him.</p><p>The hall, though, is empty save for Claude. None of the doors seem disturbed, and there isn't a sound to be heard. "...huh." <em>Guess he's gotten really good at hiding in this place...</em></p><p>That night, Claude has trouble getting to sleep. Between the anticipation for going back there and the wild conjectures his brain is conjuring about Dimitri, he completely forgets he was supposed to report back to Hilda.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Scaling the Walls Between Us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"I did say that the Boar Prince isn't real, but I would never say that spirits don't exist." Dimitri doesn't elaborate, though, after seeing the expression on Claude's face. He goes quiet.</p><p>Claude's brow furrows, then, as he sits back and watches Dimitri carefully. That quietude is too familiar: the silence of someone who doesn't think anything they say will matter. He's been that kind of silent before. He hates it--the despair that comes from giving up on explaining yourself, defending yourself, because it never works anyway. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. "Dimitri...it's true that I've never believed in ghosts, but that's because I've never seen any evidence that they were real. I do what I do because I don't want people to buy into falsehoods and gossip. If I ever found a spirit that was really real, I'd be willing to believe it."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day, Claude waits only until the sun goes down before stuffing his things into his backpack and heading back to the castle. He's suddenly not sure why he planned to wait until nightfall to begin with--next time, he thinks, he should go during the day; maybe they can meet at a coffee shop or something so Claude doesn't have to squint into the darkness to see Dimitri. This time, when he gets there, he doesn't break in. Instead, he approaches the enormous front doors and uses the heavy iron door knocker to announce his arrival. The outside of the old castle is just as eerie as its inside, he thinks, but it only fuels his excitement to see more of it.</p><p>Claude isn't waiting for long before one of the doors opens, its hinges creaking in protest. Dimitri isn't obvious at first, though there's a pale face peering out from the foyer before long. "Ah... hello, Claude." A pause, but the door opens just slightly farther. "Decide to knock, this time?"</p><p><em>Wow, he really knows how to make a creepy entrance, doesn't he?</em> "Hey, Dimitri." Then, a bit sheepish, "Well yeah, now that I know you live here, why wouldn't I?" He steps inside and peers around. He's been in this room before, but it feels different getting invited in as though this were just Dimitri's house. Except most people's houses don't have centuries of dust caked on the floor and rotted ceiling beams and a broken chandelier...and no lights. "I guess you really save money not having to pay for any utilities, huh?" He gives Dimitri a wink.</p><p>"I suppose..." Despite the state of the place, Dimitri doesn't seem any more self-conscious than their previous meetings, though something now is... certainly different. His steps are light as he leads Claude to a little parlor, lit up by candles left dotted around the room... which seems to be a little less ruined than most of the others. "... still. It's kind of you." Dimitri sits on one of the couches, conspicuously a little... spotty, in the dust covering it.</p><p><em>It's kind of me to knock like a civilized person?</em>  Claude realizes, though, that Dimitri's been dealing with people breaking in for a while. <em>Maybe if it didn't look like a ruin he wouldn't have to...</em> He sits down on the other side of the couch and pulls his backpack into his lap, opening it up. "I figured you might be hungry--" <em>because I haven't seen a single morsel of food in this castle anywhere</em>  "--so I brought a few things to munch on. It's always better to tell stories with snacks." He pulls out an assortment of fruits, cheeses, crackers, and jerky, along with a small container of baklava and two bottles of water. The candles and the...attempt? to clean the dust from the room make him smile; did Dimitri do that just for his visit?</p><p>To Dimitri's credit, his look of surprise is short-lived enough to be missed entirely, but the way his shoulders stiffen betrays his anxiety worse, perhaps. *I... that's kind of you, but I've already..." Then again, Claude doesn't seem the sort to really take no for an answer where it counts. "... perhaps... I can keep some for later, when I'm hungry again. You really are too kind..."</p><p><em>Whoa, why is he so tense?</em>  "Sure, keep whatever you like." Claude starts making little cheese-cracker sandwiches for himself. "So, what do you want to chat about?"</p><p>"What do people normally talk about?" Dimitri much prefers to get to the point rather than floundering around, alluding to things he doesn't know or that aren't true... "You mentioned having a story... as you can imagine, there aren't many who would choose to linger and talk to me. Not that they have the opportunity, mind."</p><p>"I can't imagine that at all. Why wouldn't they want to talk to you?" Claude bites into his cracker sandwich and considers. Dimitri seems so...sheltered. Isolated, even. A fellow outsider, yes, but why?</p><p>"You must remember that I manage to scare off most people before they even see my face, Claude. <em>You</em> are the first person who has seen me in..." Dimitri seems to lose his train of thought, and shrugs.</p><p>Claude waits to see if more is forthcoming, but apparently not. Maybe an exchange will help. "Everyone has a story. I can tell you mine, if you want to hear it."</p><p> "I... would like to, if you truly are willing. Though... know that I have little to tell of myself in return."</p><p>"That's okay. You can tell me as much or as little as you want. As for me..." And he tells Dimitri the story of Claude Riegan, the child of two lands, wanted by neither, who set out to dispel all manner of ways in which people judge others by appearances and believe things based on nothing but rumors--and that's how he came to be a paranormal investigator with a blog dedicated to disproving all the ridiculous things people believe for no reason. He tells Dimitri about his plans to go to college once he figures out where he wants to go, or maybe after he travels around the world first, or...all the other things he might want to do with his life.</p><p>Dimitri's nothing if not patient, and hardly stays stoic throughout it all; from the look of things, from those subtle changes in his expression to the soft noises of agreement, of understanding, that he makes every once in a while--he gets it, put simply. "I see." He doesn't speak again until Claude's been quiet for some time, too. It's quite a lot to take in, not that he minds. "It sounds to me like you have a lot that you want to do... and I imagine that it would be hard to pick, knowing time is not infinite."</p><p>"Heh, exactly. To be honest, if I could, I'd like to do a little bit of everything. But mostly..." Claude gazes distantly into a candle flame. "Mostly, what I really want is to break down barriers and make people see that all the differences they think there are between them are a <em>good</em> thing, not a reason to hate and shun each other." He shakes himself out of it and smiles, popping a grape into his mouth. "What about you, what are your plans for the future?"</p><p>"I don't know," comes Dimitri's answer, but not before he lets his eyes wander off, too. "Whatever happens will happen, I suppose."</p><p>Claude frowns. "Are you really content to just let life happen <em>to</em> you? Isn't there anything you want?"</p><p>Dimitri fixes Claude with a look, more curious than anything else. "Well... no. Not really." He lifts his feet onto the couch, sitting with his legs drawn to his chest, now. "<em>Should</em> there be?"</p><p>Claude blinks. "Of course! I mean...I guess if you really don't want anything, that's your call. But I think you'd be a lot happier if you had a goal, or at least some kind of desire. What about somewhere you want to visit?"</p><p>"I can't say that I haven't considered something like that over the years, but really... I also can't say that I've thought about anything of the sort for a long, long time. Even were it possible... I haven't much of a desire to."</p><p><em>He talks like he's much older than he looks. He's so strange...</em> "Well, it can't have been <em>that</em> long--you don't look any older than me. What do you mean, it's not possible?"</p><p>"If I could explain it properly, you would still not believe it. But I have no qualms with staying here. Perhaps I'm often alone, but I haven't been lonely in a long time."</p><p>”You keep saying that - that you haven’t wanted to leave or talk to anyone for a long time. But you said you didn’t mind if <em>I</em> came back, and you clearly <em>do</em> mind that people look at you as nothing but a curiosity. So...maybe you are lonely, and you just don’t realize it anymore.” Claude's abandoned the food now, frowning in concern. To see someone so...lost? So alone? It upsets him. There have been plenty of times in his life when he felt alone, and no one had reached out to <em>him</em> in friendship...so he won’t let that happen to Dimitri.</p><p>That seems to get the other boy thinking, and they're sitting in silence again for some few minutes before he finds his words. "I just see no use in longing for things that I cannot have, Claude. I certainly won't deny it's been one of the more... pleasant surprises, finding out that you're a decent sort... but there is nothing here. I doubt that you'll continue to come here, once you've seen what little there is to see. I am not the sort to allow my hopes to get the better of me."</p><p>"Whoa, hold on. There isn't 'nothing' here. <em>You're</em> here. And that's plenty to come back for. If you want to, you could visit me next time--I'll show you my apartment, my favorite coffee shop, whatever you want. It would do you some good to get out of the house a little."</p><p>"Claude..." When his words fail him, it's all Dimitri can do to stifle his sigh; he hugs his knees close, and rests his chin atop them. "I can't leave this place. Meeting you elsewhere, it would be impossible."</p><p>Claude's frowning again. "I don't understand. Why can't you leave? I mean...no offense to your home, but you just said there's nothing here, so why stay?"</p><p>"I stated earlier that even were I to say, you wouldn't believe me... but I suppose that I can answer your question, even if you won't find the answer satisfactory." But Dimitri fixes Claude with a questioning look, uncertainty written deep in his eyes. "I don't know. You tell me—you said that you have no belief in ghosts, is that true?"</p><p>Claude arches an eyebrow. "I did say that. But you don't believe in ghosts either, right? You said the Boar Prince was nothing but a ruse." Is Dimitri trying to say...no, that would be ridiculous, obviously. Or else this whole thing has been a really elaborate prank. But Dimitri really doesn't seem like the pranking type...</p><p>"I <em>did</em> say that the Boar Prince isn't real, but I would never say that spirits don't exist." Dimitri doesn't elaborate, though, after seeing the expression on Claude's face. He goes quiet.</p><p>Claude's brow furrows, then, as he sits back and watches Dimitri carefully. That quietude is too familiar: the silence of someone who doesn't think anything they say will matter. He's been that kind of silent before. He hates it--the despair that comes from giving up on explaining yourself, defending yourself, because it never works anyway. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. "Dimitri...it's true that I've never believed in ghosts, but that's because I've never seen any evidence that they were real. I do what I do because I don't want people to buy into falsehoods and gossip. If I ever found a spirit that was really real, I'd be willing to believe it."</p><p>Dimitri raises a brow at that... and even manages some small, almost amused smile. "Really now. I... will admit that that is a lot more reasonable than I was expecting." Although perhaps time has simply made Dimitri far too skeptical; he didn't have any true reason to think Claude would be obstinate without reason.</p><p>Claude smiles in return. "Contrary to popular belief, I <em>do</em> have a spiritual side. So what was it you were going to say?"</p><p>"There is most certainly a ghost here, though not some... some mindless, monstrous beast. No Boar Prince... though a prince all the same, I suppose." A pause. "But.. you would wish for proof."</p><p>The air in the room seems especially still, suddenly. If this isn't some prank or trick--if he's been reading Dimitri right, and this is all completely sincere--Claude has a feeling he's about to learn a secret he never thought he'd learn. He can't help a bit of skepticism, still; he despises the idea of believing something just because someone said so, and he refuses to fall into that sort of trap. But he also can't help feeling like Dimitri isn't the sort to lie to him. "It would help," he admits.</p><p>Dimitri debates with himself, but only briefly. "Hold out your hand."</p><p>Claude studies the boy for a moment, looking for any sign of deception. When he doesn't find a single one, he reaches out a hand toward Dimitri, more confidently than his hesitation might have suggested he'd be.</p><p>Dimitri mirrors Claude, hand lifting from his own leg to reach out to him... but their fingers never touch, never so much as brush against one another. His hand drifts through Claude's as if it weren't there at all, without even a hint of resistance, and the warmth of skin is replaced by the feel of a cool breeze, gone quickly.</p><p>A shiver goes through Claude as his eyes widen. It's the oddest sensation, like a wind passing not over him but <em>through</em> him; so brief, but he knows he'll never forget it. His gaze stays on his hand for a long moment before he lifts it to meet Dimitri's eyes, half in disbelief and half in wonder. "That's...amazing." He retracts his hand slowly, curling the fingers as though he could hold onto that sensation somehow. "I have to admit, I don't have any better explanation, so...for now, anyway, I believe you." But that means... His voice drops, quiet. "So, you...you're really...dead?"</p><p>"I have been for a very... very long time." Dimitri slowly retracts his hand, arm curling back around his leg, and his attention drifts to the table before them; one of its legs is broken, and so it sits oddly, pitched at a strange angle. "Touch the table, if you would. What do you know of the Boar Prince?"</p><p>"The table?" That's a weird request, but then Claude really has no idea <em>what</em> to expect at this point. He leans forward to place a hand on the table, finds nothing out of the ordinary, and withdraws it again. "Not much. The stories I've heard say he was a terrifying, brutal warrior in life who committed all kinds of grisly and horrific acts of violence in some war centuries ago, and that his ghost persists because of all those terrible things he did. But I thought you made up the Boar Prince?"</p><p>"Please, Claude. I told you that the Boar Prince exists, merely not as a ghost. And... by some definitions, that would be accurate." Dimitri waits only until Claude has removed his hand from the table to extend his own, but instead of passing through it, the table... it comes to him. A solid piece of furniture, lifting slowly into the air, inches from the ground and only rising higher. "I... there was a Boar Prince once, but it hadn't always been that way." Dimitri purses his lips and watches as a few errant scraps of parchment drift down from the table. "I may have died a boar, but I was born a prince, rest assured. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd."</p><p>Claude peers above and under the table, out of habit more than anything, but no--it...really is floating. He stares at it. "Whoa...why did you want me to touch it first?" He isn't sure exactly what Dimitri means by 'died a boar,' but he suspects this quiet and listless young man must have changed a lot for the worse before he died... "Well, it's nice to meet you...again, heh. So you're royalty, huh? That's...not really a thing here, anymore." A pause. "Do you want to tell me <em>your</em> story now?"</p><p>"I may have to, if you're truly unfamiliar. I'd considered telling you that my name was something else, though admittedly I... panicked." And just as carefully as Dimitri lifted it, he sends the table drifting slowly back to the floor, and it settles on its legs with a low creak. "And, as for the table, well. I wished to show you that it was real."</p><p>"Ah, of course." A ghost panicked? Claude wouldn't have expected that, but he's not about to tell Dimitri he made assumptions based on the sort of...person he is. Ghosts certainly seem to be people, if this boy is any indication, and Claude makes an effort to reframe the way he thinks about this whole thing. Now it's his turn to pull his feet up on the couch, tucking them under himself as he gets comfortable and picks up the whole bunch of grapes...oh, of <em>course</em> Dimitri wasn't going to eat anything. Whoops. More for him, he supposes... "I'm ready to listen."</p><p>It's quite a clinical explanation, to start off with, though there are enough details interspersed throughout that it's hard to doubt the story is true: Dimitri details his earliest days, times spent with his father and stepmother, his stepsister and childhood friends, the early years of his training and his growing as a young prince, and though he never truly goes off on any tangents, he comes close, once or twice. He's partway through a retelling of his older years when he stops, and sighs, and shakes his head. "As I said earlier, I was not born this 'Boar Prince', but... I can't deny that I <em>was</em> him, at one point. Now... I would like to think that I'm not, anymore. I've had a great deal of time to think of all of this..."</p><p>Claude listens quietly, reflecting on how things in Dimitri’s life seem both so different from what he’s used to and, in other ways, so similar. Once Dimitri trails off, Claude tilts his head, still watching him. “You don’t seem like a boar prince to me.”</p><p>"I thank you, though... it isn't a title that came from nowhere. After that day – after my family was taken from me – I really was... inconsolable. I became someone else, the sort of person I would like never to think about again. But it happened not merely once." Dimitri seems to come back to the present, a little, and looks over to meet Claude's gaze. "The room that you found me in a few nights ago was mine. It wasn't where I was injured, but... it <em>was</em> where I died. It's... an odd thing to say and feel so little about."</p><p>Claude can’t imagine what it would be like to talk about his own death after the fact. Nor can he really imagine going through the kind of trauma Dimitri did, or being in a war for that matter. “Well, it has been hundreds of years. Although...there must be a reason you’re still here, right? Speaking of which...you said you can’t leave the castle. That’s because you died here, right?”</p><p>"It is. And for all that the... monstrous, intimidating Boar Prince that you all know is little more than a ruse, there is some truth behind what you have disclosed of it. What was it that you said—the... 'terrible things' that he did. That isn't so inaccurate a way of putting it." Dimitri quiets his voice. "My own death took time to accept, but I came to, eventually. But the deaths of my friends, and my family... the things that I did in the name of their vengeance, I dare not utter."</p><p>”Well...I’m not sure how much of what people say about ghosts is true, but it sounds like that vengeance is probably the reason you’re lingering.” Claude regards Dimitri thoughtfully. “If you could move on, would you want to?”</p><p>"I don't know." A thought Dimitri's entertained often, but never quite come to a conclusion on. "I know not what there is for me in this world, but... without having been able to leave for so many centuries, who am I to say? The only glimpses that I'm ever to have are... are you all, really."</p><p>That’s awful, Claude thinks. To spend so many years alone and imprisoned in his own ruined home? Claude's jaw sets, determined. “There has to be <em>some</em> way for you to leave. I’ll find it. And in the meantime...” He pulls out his phone and opens his photo collection. “I can take pictures of things to show you, if you want.” He holds out the phone for Dimitri to take, before he remembers that’s probably not going to work so well...so he puts it down on the couch facing the prince instead and starts swiping slowly through the photos.</p><p>"Ah. I... I've seen these. That people have brought with them on their journey here, but I still don't..." It's a little intimidating, but one couldn't call the prince lacking in his curiosity; he leans in without much hesitation at all, and peers wide-eyed at the small screen, attempting to decipher what, exactly, he's looking at.</p><p>Claude's smile is a delighted one, watching Dimitri’s wonder at something as simple as a smartphone. “Let’s see...” He swipes through to a series of photos he took as a sort of photo journal through a big city’s hidden places. “I bet you haven’t seen any places like this before. You should tell me what kinds of things you want to see, and I’ll go take pictures of them!”</p><p>"That sounds ideal in theory, but... I don't believe I would know where to start, Claude." What if he mentions something that no longer exists? "What does... where do you live? What does it look like?"</p><p>”Ah, that’s an easy one—“ Claude swipes through his photos again until he finds a set of pictures of his snow-white cat, which also happen to showcase most of the interior of his place. “This is my apartment. And that’s Khalilah.” The apartment is a decent size but cluttered, walls lined with a row of mismatches bookshelves and piles of random stuff everywhere. His desk boasts his laptop but also an impressive collection of origami shapes in different colored paper and a chemistry set.</p><p>Dimitri takes his time to observe it, though it seems he's still quite caught up simply on how... how different it all is. There are many questions in his mind, but the first thing to leave his lips isn't nearly of the greatest import: "Khalilah... well, I. I suppose for all that has changed, your pets haven't. To... some extent."</p><p>”Only to some extent? What’s different about them?”</p><p>"I haven't seen what <em>else</em> you all keep as pets. For all I know, you all could have... all sorts of things in your homes with you." But Dimitri is amused as he says it, and manages to make himself relax a little, leaning just a little closer to the small display.</p><p>Claude chuckles. “I don’t know what kinds of pets we’d have that you wouldn’t recognize.” An idea occurs to him, then-- “Do you like cats? I could bring her next time.”</p><p>"That may not be the wisest idea... I would hate for her to run off and get lost in here, somewhere. You've told me you've explored 'most' of this castle, though there's likely far more left to be seen than you think."</p><p>Claude's eyes gleam with curiosity. “Are there secret passages? I <em>love</em> secret passages.”</p><p>"Some, I suppose. But there are many rooms and parts of the castle unavailable to you, ah... bodied folk, since after the war. Collapsed walls and ceilings, and that sort of thing... though to my fortune, it has helped preserve a great deal of my family's more important belongings from those who would seek to take them from here."</p><p><em>Bodied folk.</em> Claude never thought he’d fall into a category like <em>that</em>. “Small blessings, I guess. But you’re right, I probably shouldn’t bring Khalilah. I could take a video for you, though.” Dimitri is nothing if not honest: the look he gives Claude is so open in its cluelessness. ”Oh, right. Uh...like these pictures, but moving. Here—“ He searches his phone until he finds a short video of himself at another ‘haunted’ site, talking about the history of the place, and plays it for him.</p><p>"O-oh." Dimitri's having difficulty keeping all of this... in mind, but he supposes he'll get used to it eventually, if Claude truly will continue to visit him. ... a thought he hasn't had until now. What an odd realization. "All of this is... I will be the first to admit it's a little overwhelming, but... I suppose it's been quite a long time." Dimitri stops. "What... what year is it?"</p><p>”It’s 2020. Uh...what year was it when you last checked?”</p><p>"I've... I've never been <em>able</em> to check." Dimitri looks horrified at the discovery and presses a trembling hand to his own cheek. "That's... that is nearly a thousand years..."</p><p>”Oh...” Claude can’t help staring a little, eyes slightly wide. “I’m...sorry.”</p><p>"I-it's fine. It's... that is a long time," Dimitri sighs, "but it's to be expected. I have little reason to track the days as they pass, and all that tends to break the monotony is when others should enter the castle." He smiles then, still somewhat shaken, but it's a decent attempt at reassurance.</p><p>”But...gods, you’ve been alone all that time.” Claude shakes his head. “Well, that ends now. I can fill you in on the last thousand years of history if you want, although it’s...not always pleasant.”</p><p>"Dare I say the evils of man may no longer surprise me, Claude, after what my family alone went through... not even to mention my kingdom."</p><p>Claude glances down. "Yeah...I used to think it might be possible to achieve world peace, but...naive pipe dreams don't pay the bills." He shrugs.</p><p>Dimitri becomes a little sheepish, then, as he finally lets his eyes leave Claude's phone. "I cannot believe I had been so keen to chase you off. I don't think... I ever once considered I would find someone after I died. Someone to listen."</p><p>Claude looks up again and smiles. "I can't blame you for trying. Considering what most people come here for." His smile grows a little sad. "I know what it's like to keep your distance from everyone to protect yourself. Not so <em>literally</em>, maybe."</p><p>"Well, I-- given the state of this place, perhaps it would be best if I were to... to clean up some, during your next visit." Most of the parts of the castle that pose a danger are inaccessible to humans without using force, but even still, Dimitri is... aware of the state of things, here. "Perhaps," he says, more to himself, now, "it will be a nice change of pace."</p><p>"I can help out with that. I can even bring cleaning supplies--wait, are you going to make brooms sweep by themselves and everything? That's so Sorcerer's Apprentice..."</p><p>"Sweep by...? Claude, if you... I have no idea what you mean."</p><p>"You know, like the table...it's a cartoon...ah, never mind."</p><p>Dimitri's frustration doesn't last long, and even while his brows stay furrowed, his lips curl in the most subtle of smiles. "I would like to make it more comfortable here, for you. For one as I, who can't touch anything here directly, I never minded the disarray because I could not help it, but for you..."</p><p><em>Wow, what a nice thing to say.</em> It hasn't yet quite sunk in that Claude's sitting here talking to a ghost who's concerned about the state of his castle--which he's been haunting for <em>a thousand years</em>--for Claude's sake...when it does later, he'll find it incredibly surreal and kind of absurd. For now, though, he just smiles. "It <em>could</em> use a little TLC. It's a date, then--next time, we'll clean." Then he pauses, realizing something. "Wait...if you can't touch anything directly, how are you sitting on the couch?"</p><p>"Ah. I'd been hoping that you wouldn't notice... I have no ability to sit. I would pass through whatever objects I tried to touch... but I can at least look as if I'm sitting. In truth, I was worried that it may not look so convincing, but..."</p><p>"Ohhhh." Claude squints, trying to see the clues that give it away--ah, of course. The cushion is still perfectly flat. "Ha, that's clever! It totally convinced <em>me</em>, at least." He munches another strip of jerky, now that he's not worried about leaving enough for Dimitri.</p><p>"To your credit... you were quite convinced that I was alive."</p><p>And it's then that Claude realizes: the reason he was convinced Dimitri was alive was because the prince <em>acted</em> like he was alive--even after a thousand years with hardly any human contact, he's still pretending to sit on furniture and speaking in full--even formal--sentences, paying attention to how late it is, being a good host... Claude's more convinced than ever that Dimitri's insistence that he hasn't been lonely was a lie, even if he was only lying to himself.</p><p>Suddenly Dimitri is looking away, peering at the window—he hadn't even noticed the slivers of light just barely streaming through. Sunrise isn't yet approaching, but it must be nearly dawn, no doubt. "Claude, you... it's quite late. Will you be alright, traveling home?"</p><p>Claude follows his gaze. "Oh, whoops. I didn't realize I'd been here so long. I'll be fine--my bike's outside. It's only about a 20 minute ride." <em>Wait, does he know what a bicycle is? Oh well.</em></p><p>"I... suppose." The purse of Dimitri's lips suggests that no, he hasn't the faintest notion, though he trusts Claude's intuition to guide him safely home. He nods and stands, and the candles flare just slightly brighter, lighting the parlor a little more helpfully... hopefully. "I can only hope you have nothing else planned, that you might allow yourself some rest. Coming here these past few nights... are you not tired?"</p><p>Claude glances around at the candles with the slightest bit of awe, and then starts packing up the rest of the food and stowing it back in his bag. "Nah, I'm a night owl anyway. It's usually at night that people claim to see weird things, so that's when I do most of my exploring." He looks up. "Do <em>you</em> sleep? Would it be okay for me to come during the day?"</p><p>"I suppose... I see nothing wrong with a visit in the daytime." The door drifts further open when Dimitri approaches, and he steps out into the foyer. "Now that you... know, it isn't so big of a deal. The state of myself, it's... quite a bit more obvious in the day."</p><p>Claude hefts his backpack onto his back and follows. "Oh, you did say you didn't like bright light. Tomorrow afternoon it is, then! I'll bring supplies and tunes. What kind of music do you like?"</p><p>"Oh. Um." The look Dimitri gives Claude is nothing short of abashed. "Really, there aren't... I don't imagine that... ah."</p><p><em>That's adorable.</em> "You're right, that was an unfair question. I'll just play a variety and you can see what you like and what you don't." Claude pulls open the front door. "Wait right here, I'll be right back--" He runs off to where he left his bike and wheels it over so Dimitri can see it from just inside the door. "<em>This</em> is a bicycle! And you can watch me ride it." He gives the prince a wave and gets on the bike. "Good night!" And he rides off into the darkness.</p><p>An odd... contraption, Dimitri thinks—and an odd boy, at that. But he supposes that would be the product of a thousand years passing... He stands there, watching until Claude's outline vanishes, before retreating back into the castle with a sigh.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. What Fades Away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Do you not show up in mirrors, like a vampire, or something? I wonder if you'd show up in a photo. Here, hold still..." Claude snaps a few photos of Dimitri.</p><p>"I can't say for certain. It's more... how I see things. How little I can see things, that is." Dimitri crosses to the window, and holds his hand up; the sunlight from outside shoots straight through him. His hand is nearly transparent at the fingers. "I have never had much of a way to confirm it, as... you're the first human I've spoken to directly since I died. Or perhaps... the first that I've had a true conversation with, since then. I see myself no differently, but everything else - the walls, the things in this room, you, it's all... difficult. To see, I mean. It's only grown more so over the years..."</p><p>"Oh..." Is he...fading? What a horrible thought. Claude's determination to befriend this ghost only strengthens. If he can be friends with the dead, it'll prove that anyone can be friends, no matter how different they are.</p><p>--</p><p>aka Hilda gets a shock and Claude pulls the ghost prince into the 21st century one modern wonder at a time, while learning more about how ghosts work.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You'll notice that a few of the details of Dimitri's history in here differ from the way canon went. In this AU, Dimitri's family didn't die until he was at the academy, and the Church didn't have such a strong stranglehold on Fódlan. He and Edelgard were closer as a result, and he spent fewer years of his life haunted, but things still went to shit.</p><p>This chapter was posted for Dimiclaude Birthday Week 2020, day 8: free day!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day is probably the first time in Claude's entire life that he's been looking forward to cleaning. It's not that he hates it normally, just that there's always something more interesting to be doing than that. Plus, when he was younger, his family hired a cleaning service to do all that stuff for them, so he never actually learned how to do it <em>well</em>. But none of that matters today, because today he's going to introduce a millennium-old ghost to the wonders of disinfectant and jazz. It's just as he's about to head out to the supermarket to pick up supplies that Hilda shows up. "Oh, hey, Hilda." Oh shit, he hasn't...told...her. Any of this.</p><p>"'Oh hey'? That's a bit anticlimactic after you fall off the face of the planet for three days." The look she gives him over a long sip of coffee does well enough to showcase how unamused she is. She squeezes past him into the apartment - oh, and as always she's brought Claude his own coffee, looks like. "So... since I don't imagine you just slept for three days straight, what happened?"</p><p>Claude takes the coffee with a ‘thanks’ and takes his own long sip to give himself a moment to think. She won’t believe it if he tells her the truth, will she? Besides..he’s suddenly finding that he kind of doesn’t want to...share this. Hmm. That’s weird, isn’t it? Oh, she’s still waiting for a response. “Nothing <em>happened</em>, why do you think something happened?” He almost winces at his own awful dissembling. <em>Come on, you can do better than that.</em> “There’s just a lot to explore in the old castle I found, that’s all. I’m taking my time.”</p><p>"I dunno, you're usually like..." She waffles before she decides on her words. "Normally you'd be sending me all kinds of things by now. I don't know if you didn't have reception out there or something, but I sent a few texts I don't think went through... so you're saying you haven't found <em>anything</em> yet? In <em>that</em> big old place?"</p><p>Oh...of course, there probably <em>isn't</em> any reception. He didn't bother to check. That’s going to make showing Dimitri things a little harder, he’ll have to use his hotspot and bring a portable charger or something— “Oh yeah, I didn’t get your texts, sorry. I mean, I’ve found...some stuff, just nothing important. Yet. I’m going back today to check it out some more.”</p><p>"Eh. Don't worry about it. I know you'll probably tell me more than I want to hear if you actually do find anything that's not... rotten or moldy, so." She finally takes a second to look at him, and squints. "Are you going somewhere? Aren't you usually like, getting ready to nap this time of day?"</p><p>”Even I need to hit up the supermarket every once in a while, Hilda.” <em>Oh no, what if she wants to come with me?</em>  “And I should really get on that, so...” He’s never shooed her out before.</p><p>"O... kaaaaay? Well, when you do have service, just... let me know if you find anything, I guess." Hilda gives him one last, lingering look, before she goes back through the door. <em>Odd time to be responsible about your groceries, but...</em></p><p>”You bet. See ya!” He sighs after she’s gone. He doesn’t like shutting her out like this, but...neither he nor Dimitri is ready to bring her in on this, he’s pretty sure. Maybe he ought to ask the prince about it, though... He hurries to the market and then realizes he really doesn’t know a whole lot about what one needs to clean a dusty ruin. A bit of googling gives him a basic idea, so he picks up what he thinks should do it and stuffs it all into his larger camping backpack before biking back to the castle. By the time he arrives to knock on the door, it’s almost 4:00 and he’s a little out of breath. The door hangs open for a few moments before Dimitri makes himself known, though in the light of day, he's certainly... different. He's not merely pale but nearly colorless under the sunlight. He smiles all the same to see Claude, though, and in turn Claude is careful not to stare at how...well, ghostly he looks. "Hey, Dimitri!"</p><p>Dimitri steps aside to allow him in out of habit. "Are you alright, Claude?"</p><p>”Oh, yeah, this is just..heavier than I expected, heh.” He drops the large backpack onto the floor and winces a little at the loud thump. "Where should we start?”</p><p>"Most of the larger things, I can move on my own..." Dimitri looks to the floor, where once-sheaves of parchment and books and all sorts of miscellaneous trinkets lie scattered. "It is the smaller things I can do little but throw around without care."</p><p>Claude opens the backpack and starts pulling things out: a hodgepodge of various cleaning supplies, a mop, and a pair of speakers he brought from the apartment. Then from another bag he pulls his laptop. “Supplies and tunes, as promised! And fun as it sounds to watch you do that poltergeist thing you see in movies, I can take care of the little stuff just fine.”</p><p>Dimitri looks blankly at him at the movie reference--he probably doesn't even know what a movie is, Claude thinks--but moves on readily enough. "I may be able to rid this place of most of its dust and larger debris, though, I think."</p><p>”Huh, really? How?”</p><p>"I have some influence over the air as a spirit. Things like breezes and such. But they can become quite forceful... the only issue being I have trouble actually finding this dust. That is where you will come in."</p><p>”Ohhh...that cold wind, that was you!” Claude grins, pleased. Then he glances around, lifting an eyebrow. “Uh...I hate to tell you, but you won’t need to <em>find</em> the dust. It’s literally everywhere.”</p><p>"I more mean for you to tell me when the... <em>amount</em> of dust is acceptable. You are the one between us that would be breathing it." Dimitri wanders closer and inspects the things Claude has brought with no shortage of interest, and flat-out wonder once his eyes land on the boy's laptop.</p><p>”Ah.” Claude grins again, this time in anticipation. “Get ready, <em>this</em> is gonna blow your mind.” He sits down right there on the floor, wakes the computer up, and opens his mp3 library. “Feast your ears, Dimitri.” He presses play on Duke Ellington’s rendition of "Caravan" and then sets the laptop down so he can watch the prince’s reaction. Dimitri hasn't really been skittish so far, he probably-- But no. The ghost vanishes almost the moment the hall is filled with music. When he reappears, it's without a sound, peering from around the doorway to the parlor they sat in last night.</p><p>"Whoa--" Claude blinks, startled, only to let out a breath of relief to see the prince peeking in from the parlor.</p><p>"W-what is..."</p><p>Claude stops the music hurriedly. "Sorry! It's okay, it's just...uh..." <em>Which thing is he even freaking out about?</em>  "A recording? Like...if someone played music for you and then you could recreate it later without the instruments?"</p><p>It's slow going, but Dimitri does manage to coax himself back into the hall eventually. It isn't as though he doesn't trust Claude, but he hadn't... Suffice it to say he hadn't been expecting it. "Without the instruments?" He falls silent for some time, struggling to wrestle with the idea. Finally, he offers a tentative thought: "Those... pictures. That you show me. This is something... similar."</p><p>"Yeah, exactly! You got it. Just like the video, except without the visual." Claude presses play again. "But this does a lot more than play music. Though, uh...maybe I should just stick to the music for now and show you the rest later." He hops back up to his feet, swaying a bit to the beat. "Where should we start?"</p><p>It looks like Dimitri already has an idea, because he immediately moves a little farther down the hall and waves for Claude to follow him. He approaches a door that leads into one of the rooms that was blocked off from the inside before. "I have taken already to opening up some of the rooms that have been inaccessible... though they're still quite a mess. I am not so concerned about cleaning everything as I am determining which of these will be useful." The room itself appears to be some sort of a study, though the oaken desk near its grand windows is smashed, severed in two straight down the center. A great number of paintings, documents, and decorations of all sorts adorn the walls and litter the floors, here.</p><p>Claude follows Dimitri into this new room, looking around curiously. He whistles when he sees the desk. "Wow, what happened to <em>that?"</em></p><p>"I broke it." It comes out of him horrifically stiff. "During the fighting. But, ah... this room was one of my father's favorites, as it was mine."</p><p>"How did you manage that?" He picks his way over to crouch beside the smashed desk, examining it. "It's not exactly an Ikea piece, this is some serious solid wood."</p><p>"My father used to say that the warriors of our family were blessed by the gods with the gift of strength. I can show you naught now, but in life, such feats were not beyond me even in my teenage years..." Dimitri pauses, considers, and then sheepishly admits: "I was a sight bigger when I died than as you see me now."</p><p>"Huh." Claude straightens up and looks at Dimitri thoughtfully with a hand to his chin, trying to imagine what he might have looked like, older and--apparently--bigger. He's not sure he believes this, but he at least believes the <em>prince</em> believes it, which is good enough for now; he can do his own research later. "So you look younger now because this was what you were like before you...became the Boar prince. Right?"</p><p>"I know little of what I look like, shy of remembering that I was... not this small, when I died. But I suppose that would have to be accurate, yes. Ah... how old <em>are</em> you, Claude?"</p><p>"I'm nineteen." Claude pulls out his phone. "Do you not show up in mirrors, like a vampire, or something? I wonder if you'd show up in a photo. Here, hold still..." He snaps a few photos of Dimitri.</p><p>"I can't say for certain. It's more... how I see things. How <em>little</em> I can see things, that is." Dimitri crosses to the window, and holds his hand up; the sunlight from outside shoots straight through him. His hand is nearly transparent at the fingers. "I have never had much of a way to confirm it, as... you're the first human I've spoken to directly since I died. Or perhaps... the first that I've had a true conversation with, since then. I see myself no differently, but everything else - the walls, the things in this room, you, it's all... difficult. To see, I mean. It's only grown more so over the years..."</p><p>"Oh..." <em>Is he...fading? What a horrible thought.</em> Claude's determination to befriend this ghost only strengthens. If he can be friends with the dead, it'll prove that <em>anyone</em> can be friends, no matter how different they are. "Well, if you ever want me to describe things to you, all you have to do is ask. And in case you were wondering, you do show up in photos."</p><p>"I... see." Dimitri's caught between being thankful for Claude's thoughtfulness and being worried at the implications of knowing that he can be... documented so easily. But he nods and makes his way back toward the door. "In any case, best get back to our cleaning, or else you'll end up staying until sunrise again. But I would ask: I've already tried to blow the dust from this room... does it look all right?"</p><p>"Hey, I don't mind staying as long as you want." Claude turns to look around more carefully to gauge the dust situation. "It looks pretty good! Definitely less of a coating, more of a smattering. I could take a duster to it sometime, but this is a huge improvement already."</p><p>"It's good to know my efforts aren't for naught. All right, then. I will clear the rooms of dust, and... if I may take you up on your offer... might I request that you help me gather the papers scattered about? I would... like to go over them with you, so that I might know what they are."</p><p>"Sure thing. One nice, neat stack of papers, coming right up." Claude starts in on doing just that, collecting not only the papers strewn everywhere but also all the other things scattered all over the floor - books, fallen paintings, knick knacks, and anything else he finds. It takes longer than it should, because he gets distracted by examining everything he picks up, but he tries not to take <em>too</em> long. He even rights any toppled furniture that can be righted - not the broken desk, obviously, but chairs and smaller tables. In the meantime, Dimitri vanishes into thin air from his father's study--Claude's still not used to that, though it's pretty cool. The sounds of the ghost's efforts elsewhere are audible through the walls: great gusts of wind in nearby rooms, the creaking of beams and rafters as they withstand his barrage.</p><p>By the time the prince comes back, Claude's just about finished, piling the last of the books up on the floor over by the rotting, splintering shelves. Dimitri pokes his head into the room first before stepping in. "I believe I've cleared what rubble can be cleared, and taken care of what dust can be taken care of. How are you faring, Claude?"</p><p>Claude indicates his work with a grandiose gesture, twirling around to show the whole room. "Ta-da! What do you think? Looks more homey, right?"</p><p>"It certainly does, and I have you to thank for it. Were it only that I could offer you the sort of hospitality my family prided itself on... though in any case, I did find something you may be interested in."</p><p>”I admit, it would be dope to see what a real royal welcome from Prince Dimitri would be like.” Claude grins. “But I love a good ruin to explore, too, so you’ll get no complaints from me.” He joins the prince at the doorway. “What’s up?”</p><p>Dimitri doesn't vanish outright this time, so that Claude may follow him more easily. Instead, he ascends the now rubble-less grand staircase. "I haven't cleared it of its dust yet... I didn't wish to disturb it. But I was startled to see that it remained untouched after everything... its doorway caved in during the war." The room he leads Claude to is far more intact than the others, to a miraculous degree, almost: the room is encircled by high shelves and all sorts of hunting trophies adorning its walls, though its main focal point is the large table in the center of the room. A map spans the whole of its top, dotted with innumerable markings and scribblings and small figurines... "This was my father's war table," Dimitri says, and approaches slowly. Deep eyes gaze down on the battlefield it depicts, spanning landmarks and features long since disappeared to time, he has no doubt. "It's... nearly pristine."</p><p>”Whoa...” Claude takes in the room entire first, before he approaches the war table with a certain reverence. “It’s like looking back in time...” He half-reaches toward the map, but decides not to touch it, lest the whole thing come apart under his fingers. So instead he just leans down to peer at it closely. “This is amazing! All these places I’ve never heard of...”</p><p>"Is that so? I suppose it isn't surprising, to hear that even the land itself has changed with time... still, even without seeing a lot of these details, being in this room certainly takes me back..."</p><p>Claude watches Dimitri, wondering if this sort of nostalgia might make him fade further, or bring him back from the brink...or have no effect at all? He's going to have to brush up on his ghost lore after this, for sure. He pulls out his phone to take pictures of the map, careful not to use the flash. "I'm gonna do some research and see what I can find out about all of this." He takes in that wistful look on the prince's face and goes on, "Do you want to tell me about your dad?"</p><p>"I can." If Dimitri concentrates, he can almost see the king again, sitting there at the head of the table. "My father was a very straightforward person... he taught me to honor integrity. To abide by it as freely as I would expect it from others, but also... he always seemed so very in tune with our people, in a way. Hah, when he was alive I spent more of my time in the city with him than I did here in the palace." When his hand descends, it hovers above the war table just close enough that his fingers could brush it, were they real. "He was perhaps one of few people I could exist around and not feel... judged. It always felt as if he understood what I was going through, whatever it could possibly have been."</p><p>Claude listens quietly, watching Dimitri again. The prince has a way of drawing him deeply into his stories, that heavy gaze he has, as though he could drag Claude with him back into history with nothing but words. “Why did people judge you?” he asks softly, with a bit of subconscious emphasis on the final word.</p><p>"I mentioned that we were 'blessed' with strength, though in life, it hardly ever felt a blessing. That desk there, in my father's study—such incidents were not rare for me, growing up. Even in my youngest years, I possessed a strength to best grown men... and in my life as a young adult, I came to adopt a temper to match, once the war began in earnest. It isn't as if such a thing was frowned upon here in Faerghus, mind you, but... my hesitance to embrace it most certainly was."</p><p>“So they judged you for not wanting to be violently angry. Well, <em>that</em> much hasn’t changed in our society. Joy.” He sighs.</p><p>"I was afraid you would have said such a thing... I can only hope that it would be less severe, I suppose, though I will admit my hope is minimal in that regard." The prince spares one last glance around, gaze catching briefly on one of the many decorations in the room: armor upon a stand, certainly not pristine by any means, but... "... I was not wearing it, at the time," he murmurs, and approaches with ever-silent steps, "but this... this was the armor I inherited from my father, after I took control of our house."</p><p>Claude walks around the table to approach too, and this he feels comfortable touching. He brushes his fingers against the armor. “It’s gorgeous. I’ve seen suits of armor in museums and stuff, but it’s different seeing it like this with you.” It’s large enough that he can tell now roughly how tall and broad Dimitri must have been when he died. “Why weren’t you wearing it?”</p><p>Dimitri's hesitation is palpable, in the way that the drift of his hand stutters, and his gaze drifts downward; he takes an odd interest in the way the cape on the stand, <em>his</em> cape, pools lightly on the floor. "If I recall correctly, I had insisted on donning my own armor in my last days."</p><p>Unsure what to make of that reaction, Claude leans in to peer more closely at the cape, tracing the sigil lightly with a finger. “Wow, this must have once been a really bright shade of blue.” He glances back at Dimitri. “Then what happened?”</p><p>"From that point, it is as you know. I know not what has happened to my own armor; it was in that suit that I saw my demise." He watches Claude's finger, the movements, though makes no move to stop him. In fact, he hardly seems disturbed at all by it. "... it was at that point that my grief had become the most overwhelming. The friends of my childhood had been slain in the defense of our castle town mere days prior, and by then, our enemies had become aware of my plans... it had been my intention to guide my people through the palace, through the pathways and underground passages that would see them safely out of the city and far, far beyond our walls. I've not an idea how many of them fled successfully, only that I was nearly alone in the castle by the time the front gate had been breached."</p><p>Claude smiles, a bit sad. "Boar Prince or not, I bet you would have made a great king." He looks up at the suit of armor again, imagining Dimitri wearing it, fighting for his life and his people in it... "What kind of warrior are you? What kind of fighting, I mean. With a sword, or on a horse, or what?"</p><p>"On a horse, yes. Sometimes." Dimitri turns, and nods to the opposite end of the room near the door: above it hangs a spear mounted on the wall, more an ornamental thing than a true weapon. "My main arms were lances, though I always carried my birth mother's sword with me. I had outpaced my instructors here quite easily, though... we were evenly matched overall, once my blade or polearm would break in my grasp."</p><p>Claude goggles. "If you were anyone else but you, I wouldn't believe half the things you say. You <em>broke</em> swords?"</p><p>"Were it that I could grasp <em>anything</em> in this form, I would better demonstrate what I allude to by the strength of a Blaiddyd." It manages to drag a chuckle out of Dimitri, at least. "You seem far more surprised about that than about the desk."</p><p>"Well...you didn't say you broke the desk with your bare hands. <em>Did</em> you? Because then I'll <em>really</em> be impressed."</p><p>"I was holding a person at the time, but more or less." Claude shakes his head in disbelief, but Dimitri just moves on. "Regardless... I'm certain there are a great deal of rooms and passages here in the castle much like this one, though I dread to find any that may have been even more damaged... for now, I think we should return to our cleaning, hm?"</p><p>Claude takes one more long look at the armor and nods. "Right. Oh yeah--you said you wanted me to read these papers for you?" He picks up the little pile of parchment he made near the desk.</p><p>"Ah, more or less. I'm unable to discern myself what their contents are, and though I know I will have sentiments for very few of them... I wish to be certain before I go burning them, or anything of the sort."</p><p>"You got it." Claude pages through the small stack. "Looks like a few letters from someone named Rodrigue in fancy handwriting, an armory inventory, a half-written letter about something called Duscur, and a letter with even <em>fancier</em> handwriting from somebody called Archbishop Rhea."</p><p>"I see... important, but not what I am looking for. I can dispose of them later..." Dimitri doesn't manage to hide his frown, but it's short-lived regardless, and not long after he's moving back toward the door.</p><p>"Are you looking for something specific? Actually...would you mind if I take the letters? I'd like to read them, to get a sense for what your life and time were like."</p><p>The prince pauses, having just reached the door. "... I suppose their contents have no relevance to this time. I would not mind you taking them, if that's your wish, Claude. I could say the same for most things in this palace; after this many years, I doubt that I would miss it all. Simply... do let me know, if you should happen to stumble upon a poem."</p><p>"A poem, huh? Sure thing."</p><p>"In that case, we can continue to the parlor... and perhaps you can show me your... your music?"</p><p>Claude follows Dimitri out, letters in hand, and moves his laptop into the parlor. "Maybe jazz isn't your thing. How about..." He pokes around his playlist, turning the screen so Dimitri can easily see it, and decides to try something more upbeat. "Something you can dance to?" It's time to introduce Dimitri to Queen Bey.</p><p>The ghost manages to keep himself from startling so badly... enough to keep himself from vanishing into nothing, at least. It's a good thing that Claude saw to warn him, this time. Dimitri absorbs the song in stunned silence, still amazed to see the contraption up close like this. "And... you said-- it doesn't merely play music, is that right?"</p><p>"That's right. It does all kinds of things. Like..." Claude opens up a word processor. "It's a lot easier to write this way." He types: 'Hi! I'm Dimitri and I'm a nice ghost.'</p><p>"I... I see!" Not really, at least not literally. The thing is little more than a bright blur to Dimitri, but he'll take Claude's word for it. Though... writing? Can he really be writing this way? The things that a thousand years can create... "It's so very overwhelming, but... so interesting. I could never have imagined things like this could... could exist, really."</p><p>"Funny how time can change some things so much and other things not at all, huh? I bet I wouldn't be able to imagine what things will be like a thousand years from now, either." Claude isn't really sure how to explain the internet...start a little smaller, maybe. "And this--" He pulls out his phone again. "Doesn't just take pictures. It can call people--uh, if someone else has one too, you can talk to them no matter how far away they are."</p><p>"Really?" It makes Dimitri wonder what sorts of problems could possibly plague this era without the miscommunication that hindered his father and their allies... actually, he doesn't want to think about such a thing. "You could do it now?"</p><p>"Sure! I'll call--" Claude internally sighs. No time like the present, he supposes. She'll find out sooner or later anyway. "I'll call my friend Hilda." And he does, putting the phone on speaker and setting it down on the couch.</p><p>Dimitri listens closely, seeming fascinated enough by the dial tone, though once there's a voice on the other line, he looks to Claude with widened eyes. Hilda's tone speaks volumes. "Claude? What's up?"</p><p>"Heyyyyy Hilda! So remember that castle where I didn't find anything? Well, I found something! Actually, some<em>one</em>. Aaaand I thought we'd call and say hi!" He grins at Dimitri with a thumbs-up.</p><p>Dimitri's a deer in the headlights for a second, glancing at Claude with wide eyes until he finds his voice, shaky as is it. "H... hello."</p><p>There's a beat of silence from Hilda, but only one. "What do you mean you--... hello. What do you mean you... <em>found</em> someone."</p><p>”I mean, he lives here! In this castle. And I found him here. We’re just doing a little spring cleaning.” It is, he's well aware, not spring.</p><p>"Okay, uh..." There's the sound of rustling papers on the other end, and soon after, footsteps. "D'you have me on speaker, by any chance? Can you take me <em>off</em> it for a sec?"</p><p>Claude gives Dimitri a little shrug. “Sure. Hang on.” He takes it off speaker and then covers the mic to whisper to Dimitri, “Sorry, you won’t be able to hear her for a minute.” Then he puts the phone to his ear. “Okay, no more speaker.”</p><p>"The hell is that supposed to mean, he <em>lives</em> there? The place is an <em>absolute wreck</em>, falling apart all over the place! You think someone could live there without it being obvious? Claude, really, what is this, where'd he come from?"</p><p>”Look, it’s...it’s kind of complicated. He does live here, I promise.” Well, not <em>live</em> technically, but...</p><p>She seems to settle somewhere on the other side, and sighs into the receiver. "Well... is there anything we can use in all of this? Your weird friend doesn't happen to have anything interesting to say, does he? I'd assume that's why you're bothering with it."</p><p>"Uh...hold on a second." Claude mutes the phone. "Okay, she can't hear me right now. Hilda's sort of my investigation partner, and I sort of...didn't tell her anything about this place or you, and now she's getting impatient. But I won't tell her anything if you don't want me to."</p><p>"O-oh... I see..." Dimitri has no idea what he ought to be expecting from her, but can she really be bad if Claude associates with her? "Well, I... would not want to put you in a difficult position. I'll admit that I'm not very keen on... visitors. But I would trust your judgment."</p><p>"To be honest, I...don't really want her to come here either. But I could just ask her not to--I doubt she'll want to anyway, there's a reason she lets me do all the dirty work by myself," he adds, wry. "But how do you feel about her...knowing about you?"</p><p>It's clear that Dimitri is trying to be careful with his words. His fingers splay across the back of his own neck, likely a nervous habit even before his death, too. His gaze is uncertain, but his eyes lift to meet Claude's nonetheless. "Do you believe that she would tell anyone?"</p><p>"I don't even know if she'll believe me, let alone want to tell anyone. She can definitely keep a secret; she keeps a few of mine, too."</p><p>"Then... in that case, I see no reason to have you lie to her." For all his apprehension, Dimitri gives him a nod, and one of those small, shaky smiles of his.</p><p>Claude smiles back, trying to be reassuring, and then unmutes the phone. "Hilda, listen. I'm going to tell you something and it's going to sound weird, just roll with it, okay?"</p><p>"Claude..." Another sigh comes through. "Okay. Okay, go ahead."</p><p>"So...his name is Dimitri." He hesitates almost immediately... "And uh...well. He...died. A thousand years ago."</p><p>There's silence on the other end, again, then the sound of shuffling, muffled as it is—a door shuts behind her, somewhere. "Claude, that isn't funny."</p><p>"It's not supposed to be. I <em>told</em> you it would sound weird! Don't get me wrong, all those false hauntings and stupid urban legends we've debunked <em>are</em> fake. It's just...this time, it isn't."</p><p>"You..." She tries several times but never quite finds the words she wants, and eventually gives up to settle for something a little plainer. "I hope you know I'm going to - I don't know, I'll do <em>something</em> to you if I find out you're lying to me."</p><p>"Hilda, I promise, I <em>swear</em> I am not lying. In fact, Dimitri gave me permission to tell you specifically so I <em>wouldn't</em> have to lie to you. He's nice like that."</p><p>"Hah. Considerate of him." It's odd to hear her so strained. "Um... so, I have to ask, but are you going to be...? You know. Pics, recordings, anything? I'm just - asking."</p><p>He knows what she's really asking--she wants him to give her a little hint at what he's getting her into, here. "Well...not for the blog, no. Though I did find out that ghosts do show up on camera. So I can show it to you, if he's okay with it, but you have to promise not to tell anyone, okay?"</p><p>"The first real ghost we see and we're not... All right." Not that she sounds upset; her voice is a little lighter for the relief she feels.</p><p>"No, we're not." He sounds firm, now. "Dimitri doesn't want that."</p><p>"Okay. But you have to tell me what he did to make you believe him. I know for a fact you don't just take people on their word."</p><p>"I will tell you, but...later." The prince seems to embarrass easily, and Claude doesn't want to make the guy feel self-conscious about all the ghostly things he's been doing by bragging about them to Hilda right in front of him. "Oh, hold on a second." He mutes the phone again. "Do you want to talk to her? Just over the phone, not in person."</p><p>Claude catches Dimitri so suddenly that he doesn't have the chance to play it off like he wasn't listening... he looks elsewhere. "I-- perhaps at a later time." He hopes neither of them gets the wrong impression...</p><p>Claude nods and unmutes the phone again, not minding in the least that the prince was listening. "Anyway, the other reason I called was to show Dimitri how phones work! I've shown him videos and my bike and my laptop--I haven't tackled the internet yet, that might be a longer-term project, ha."</p><p>"Pff. Telling a... a thousand-year-old ghost boy about the internet, huh," she muses. There's a chuckle in her voice that gives way to incredulity again. "God, that's... wow. I really wasn't expecting this kind of news today."</p><p>"I know exactly how you feel." Although, thinking back, Claude wasn't as disbelieving or incredulous as he thought he'd be, if he were ever to find out such a thing. Why is that? Huh. Maybe Dimitri is just that convincing. "But I think we're gonna get back to cleaning up around the castle. Anything you want me to ask him for you?"</p><p>"I might... need some time to think about that. Didn't exactly answer the phone thinking I'd be able to ask a ghost <em>anything</em>. Uh, but... enjoy your cleaning? I'll... text you if I think of something."</p><p>"Great. Oh, uh...heh. Turns out I <em>do</em> get signal here after all. How...about that. --bye!" He hangs up and looks at Dimitri with a grin. "So that's the telephone!"</p><p>"I doubt I'll ever fathom how it works, but... how astounding that is."</p><p>"Hey, <em>I</em> don't really know exactly how it works either, so you're in good company."</p><p>Dimitri falls silent for a moment. "Your friend... Hilda—she seems... nice."</p><p><em>Is he being awkward about Hilda for a reason, or is that just...his natural state?</em>  "Yeah, Hilda's great. We went to high school together, for the two years I was here for that. What was school like for you?"</p><p>"School? I... very briefly went to an academy in the mountains... though returned without finishing my year there. That was when my family passed. But, still... I met a lot of good people and capable warriors while I was there, and was able to spend time with many kinds of people I would never have known otherwise."</p><p>Claude smiles. "Sounds more like college to me, meeting all kinds of new people from all over, stepping outside your comfort zone. I can't wait, to be honest, but first I have to decide where I want to go and then figure out how to come up with the money." He looks troubled for a moment, but shakes it off pretty quickly.</p><p>"I never like to make assumptions, but you seem the resourceful type. I'm confident that you will figure it out." Dimitri wonders vaguely what could be done, what kinds of resources he needs, or has access to...</p><p>Claude sort of hates that he feels pleasantly surprised at this vote of confidence. "Well...thanks. You're right, it's a matter of 'how' rather than 'if.' So, what's next? Want me to de-clutter another room and look for that poem of yours, or show you more of the wonders of the 21st century, or something else entirely?"</p><p>"Ah. Well, it's going to get dark out soon. I have something else I wished to show you, though it won't be ready appropriately until the moon is out. If... that is all right. Perhaps we could clean for some time more, and then you can eat something?" Dimitri's assuming at least that he brought something to eat today, too.</p><p>Claude scratches the back of his head with one hand, looking sheepish. "Right...food. I kind of forgot about that. Hilda's always yelling at me about losing track of time and forgetting to eat..." Despite definitely not having forgotten when he thought <em>Dimitri</em> needed to eat. "But I bet I could talk someone into delivering here. Did you have pizza when you were alive?"</p><p>"Ah... I can't recall anything by that name, no." The mention of forgetting to eat is a concept Dimitri's familiar with, though he can't help but frown all the same. "You'll eat first, and then we can continue to clean, if you are still feeling up to it. There's no rush, and I don't want you going without food for no reason."</p><p>That's...awfully nice of him, Claude thinks, considering he hasn't had to worry about food for a thousand years. He smirks. "Yes, Your Princeliness. Let's see who I can con into bringing pizza to a ruin without an address." He calls the closest pizza place he can find, putting it on speaker again so the prince can hear the conversation, and eventually manages to order a pie with sausage, pepperoni, and mushrooms for delivery. "Don't worry, I'll answer the door when they get here and it'll only take a minute."</p><p>Dimitri ought to have figured something like... like <em>this</em> would be in the realm of possibility, but can he be blamed for not having thought of it? By the time Claude hangs up, he's shaking his head. "So... so strangers will just bring you food from elsewhere? Wherever you wish them to? Are you going to tell me next that you all don't cook? Not that I could blame you..."</p><p>"Well, they won't go too far away from the restaurant, but otherwise, yeah! It usually costs a little extra." Claude tilts his head, considering. "Most people cook at least a little, since it gets expensive to eat out all the time. Although some people's cooking consists mostly of putting things in the microwave. And by some people I mean Hilda." It takes him a moment to remember-- "Oh, and by microwave I mean...uh...a sort of box that heats up food really quickly."</p><p>Well, Dimitri thinks, at least Claude is starting to remember his ignorance in regards to, quite literally, everything. "I see... does that mean that you cook?"</p><p>"Sure! Cooking is fun, as long as I can fiddle with recipes and make them my own. It's a shame I can't cook for you, I'm sure there are all kinds of modern things you would like. What kind of food did you used to eat?"</p><p>"Well... when I was younger, I greatly enjoyed sweet things <em>and</em> savory things, though the older I got, the less that I...hm. During the last few years of my life, I could taste very little. Hardly anything outside of the strongest spices and flavors, really. Even were I alive, I wouldn't have the opportunity to experience your cooking the way that it ought to be, I'm afraid."</p><p>"Oh, that's rough. You'd be in luck, though--I love spicy foods and strong flavors. I bet you could taste my cooking. If, you know...you could eat it." There's got to be some way to let a ghost experience things...more research he'll have to do. Although-- "Huh, can you possess people?"</p><p>Dimitri blinks; his face contorts, a little childishly. "I can't say I've made the attempt... an invasion of bodily autonomy that I have little use for."</p><p>Claude's eyes gleam with curiosity, now. "What if someone let you, though? If you possessed me, then maybe you could taste things."</p><p>The look Dimitri gives him now borders on creeping alarm. "You... can't mean that." It isn't as if he hasn't wondered if something were in the realm of possibility for him, he'd heard many a tale of such possessions and bodily takeovers in his childhood-- The prince shakes his head and almost shivers. "I-- couldn't possibly."</p><p>It's true that the idea of giving up control of his body to someone he just met a few days ago sounds incredibly dangerous to the cautious, rational part of Claude's mind. But the part of his mind that's still reeling over the fact that ghosts are real in the first place wants to know <em>everything</em> about them...and Dimitri seems to like him. If he were out to hurt Claude, he could have done so a hundred times over by now. And there's another part of his mind that...well, he's not going to think too hard about that part right now. "I do mean it." He stands and comes closer to the prince. "Dimitri, the fact that you don't want to is what makes me inclined to trust you to do it. You don't seem like the kind of guy who would abuse the privilege. You've been nothing but kind and courteous to me."</p><p>"I... still, that..." Maybe they don't have those kinds of stories... no, but then Claude wouldn't have asked if he was capable of such a thing, surely. There isn't much room that he can look elsewhere and not see Claude—the fact that he could, if he wanted, simply vanish from sight doesn't seem to occur to him as a solution. "Nothing is worth the possibility of something going wrong."</p><p>"Like what?" Claude moves again in an attempt to get Dimitri to meet his eyes. "Look, I can't claim to be an expert on ghosts--not yet, anyway. But don't you <em>want</em> to...to experience things again? Wouldn't doing this let you see clearly and touch things?" It's odd, the urgency Claude suddenly feels about this. He reaches out a hand toward the prince. "It...kind of seems like you're fading away, and I don't want that to happen. Let me help you, okay?"</p><p>"And if it did something to you? To your body, or... or even your soul? I could never forgive myself." It's difficult to look at him still, and out of habit Dimitri almost flinches away from Claude's hand. "I came to terms with this a... long, long time ago, Claude," he whispers. He does find the nerve to meet his eyes though, and gives a weak smile. "What you have done for me, already you've helped me a great deal. Please."</p><p>"If it did something then we would figure out how to fix it. No problem is unsolvable--and we don't even know that there would <em>be</em> a problem." Claude shakes his head. "I'm not afraid. Not of you, and not of this. The only thing I'm afraid of is that one day I might come back and...you might not be here anymore. And then it would be too late."</p><p>Realization flickers in Dimitri's eyes, and his face falls, slowly, subtly. "Is that why you are so dead set on this?" Not the best choice of words, perhaps, but he doesn't dwell on it long. "As far as I can conjecture, that is... simply how it is. Simply what happens, if you don't... make it to whatever afterlife there might be. I can't say why it took me so long, but all of them – father, stepmother, Edelgard – they all..." When next he speaks, the air before Claude is empty, suddenly. Dimitri stands now at the window, undisturbed by the breeze coming in; in the light of the sunset, it's even more obvious how the sun filters through him. "I know not if I'll see them again, but I will fade just as they did. It's... what's natural, Claude."</p><p>Claude's brow furrows with a flash of...not anger, but frustration, maybe, as he turns to find Dimitri again. "Is it? Do you actually know anything about any of this, or are you just giving in because you think you're supposed to? Because you think the Boar Prince doesn't deserve a second chance?" He surprises even himself with how vehement he is, but there's something about the thought that a ghost lingering for a thousand years, lonely and waiting for a chance to make up for actions he regrets, might just cease to be without ever having the opportunity...it's not <em>right</em>. "Dimitri...please." He speaks more softly, now. "There must be a reason you're still here. Something you can do to...I don't know. Earn your place in the afterlife. Move on to somewhere better. Wherever the dead are supposed to go. If you just let yourself fade without the chance to try, what was the point of the last thousand years?"</p><p>"And you think that this will help?" It's not an accusation, in spite of Dimitri's wording. He's genuinely curious, and a little flabbergasted; he doesn't know what Claude would propose he do if it somehow did help, and he wonders, and worries, what could be going through Claude's mind right now. "And then if it did? I can't... I'm not going to go around possessing people."</p><p>"No, of course not." Claude pauses, not entirely certain he can explain his reasoning in words that make sense. "But I do think it would help you to remember what it was like to be alive, you know? Even if just for a little bit. And then--" He walks closer to the window. "I'm going to study up as much as I can on all this, so we can figure out what comes next for you, and how you can achieve it."</p><p>"You needn't burden yourself with this." Even if Dimitri were at a point where he had any fear of what could come next, he would never ask that Claude dedicate his time to it—<em>waste</em> it in such a way.</p><p>"You're right. I <em>want</em> to, though, and you can't stop me." He winks, teasing as he comes to stand within arm's reach of the prince. "Well, I take it back, you probably could. But I'd rather you didn't."</p><p>"I could. And perhaps I should." The bow of Dimitri's head says that he won't, though. He sighs and rubs carefully at his right eye, considers his options and his words only to startle at the sound of-- "Someone is coming," he says, whipping himself around to face the door leading out into the foyer, though he's quick to remember. "Is... that your food--?"</p><p>Oh--Claude had almost forgotten. He glances over, too. "Probably. I'll take care of it. I'll be right back." He hurries to the front door before the delivery person has a chance to get weirded out and leave, or make too much noise. They look surprised when he opens the door, and they joke that they owe their coworker five bucks; a bet, they explain, on whether or not this was just a prank. Claude laughs and assures them it's not a prank, and he really is hungry, so he appreciates them making the trip. He tips generously for making them drive out to a creepy ruin in the middle of nowhere before giving them a wave and shutting the door. On his way back, he takes in the delicious smell and hoping the prince hasn't decided to disappear into some deep, dark niche of the castle to avoid the rest of their conversation...he's coming to understand that he'd never find a real ghost who didn't want to be found in his own home.</p><p>Claude's relieved to see that, by some miracle, Dimitri hasn't yet sought to vanish in his absence. The ghost is sat on the couch again when Claude returns, or at least mimicking it, and smiles weakly when he spots the odd box in Claude's hands. "So that's... what was it you called it again?" He's still reeling a little over someone bringing him food all the way out here, and so quickly...</p><p>"Pizza! Can you smell it?" Claude puts the box down on a nearby table and opens it up, revealing the cheesy, greasy goodness inside. He pulls out a slice and bites into it, closing his eyes briefly as he savors the taste. "So good...not exactly healthy, but too tasty to pass up."</p><p>"I can't, no." Not that he isn't amused to see Claude's reaction, but... it isn't as if the prince is totally unaware of his exaggeration. Long ago as his life was, he knows he's never seen anyone enjoy eating this much except for Ingrid, and Claude doesn't talk about food nearly enough to be akin to her. Dimitri folds his hands in his lap, ever patient. "Seeing it now, I can certainly say I've never had something that looks like that... what an odd food."</p><p>While it isn't <em>entirely</em> an exaggeration--if only because Claude hasn't eaten since well before his trip to the store--it <em>is</em> a bit calculated to tempt. Still, it is good pizza. "It's deceptively simple. Flat bread with a crust, tomato sauce, a ton of cheese, and whatever you want to put on top. I'm partial to meat, myself." He finishes off the first slice in record time and starts in on a second. He's halfway through it, chewing thoughtfully, when he asks, "So...did you think about what I said?"</p><p>"I did." Though tinged with sadness, Dimitri's smile remains. "And I must still decline, in spite of how great my appreciation is for you." He seems content with this, because he says nothing more on the subject.</p><p>Claude nods, unsurprised by the response, though he <em>is</em> surprised by that last comment. For once, he swallows his food before he talks. "All right. I understand. The invitation is always open, though, if you change your mind."</p><p>Dimitri makes a small sound of acknowledgement and then changes the subject. "Should I expect this ordering of food to be often?"</p><p>"Ha, I hope it's not <em>too</em> often, I'm not made of money. Besides, I don't want to draw too much attention to this place. But once in a while, maybe."</p><p>"Hm... I know that you said you dislike cooking with reference to instructions, but that you enjoy cooking itself nonetheless. I can't begin to fathom what other sorts of technology you may have access to for your cooking at home, but the kitchens here are intact."</p><p>"Really?" Claude starts in on his third slice of pizza and considers. "I'd like to see that. I could bring supplies here, spices...oh, but no fridge. Hmm."</p><p>The prince blinks in silent question. "Is... it something you could bring?"</p><p>"Oh. Uh...not really, without electricity, and even a mini one would be tough to carry here. It keeps food cold, so it doesn't spoil." Claude takes another bite. "Wait, how did <em>you</em> keep food from spoiling?"</p><p>"Ah. If it wasn't cured food, then we would store it in the ice house." Dimitri nods toward the back end of the castle. "It wasn't as if we weren't surrounded by ice already... but it was much better than having to cure everything."</p><p>"Surrounded by ice? Huh. It's not that way out there now." Claude gestures at the window. "Maybe I could just bring a bunch of bags of ice, then. What's the ice house like?"</p><p>"Well, it's... dark. Enclosed almost completely, so as to keep the ice and food at as low a temperature as possible... I suppose it may still work, even if the weather itself is, ah, warmer? It's built quite deep underground so as to avoid any warmth from light."</p><p>Claude smirks. "You sure that's an ice house and not a dungeon? It sounds an awful lot like a dungeon to me. Aren't castles supposed to have those?"</p><p>"The ice house is not a dungeon. We already <em>have</em> a dungeon."</p><p>"Ooh, can I see it?" Claude finishes off the slice.</p><p>"There... isn't much to be seen there, Claude." Not that Dimitri would stop him from looking, if he should really be so inclined. "I can take you there later if you would like--" His eyes move back toward the window, where the sun starts to slip beyond the tree line. "--but first, now is the time to show you the surprise."</p><p>"I <em>would</em> like--but I suppose it can wait until after the surprise." He grins, hopping up from the couch to follow Dimitri. What sort of surprise could a ghost prince want to show him, that can only be seen after dark? "Ready and willing."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Azure Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Claude almost forgets the chill once he sees the door, which looks like something straight out of a movie. "Whoa..." He approaches it in awe, running his fingers over the empty sockets, before he carefully pulls the loose brick out from the bottom of the stairs and, sure enough, reaches into the space to find an oversized, ornate brass key. He pulls out his phone. "Close your eyes for a second, there's gonna be a flash," he warns, before he takes several pictures of the key and the door--and, just because he happens to be standing there, Dimitri too. The ghost looks thankful for the warning this time. "Okay, let's do this." Claude goes back to the door, key in hand, and examines it curiously to see what sort of 'complicated' it is.</p><p>Dimitri steps forward, too. Claude hadn't really noticed until just now that Dimitri sort of...glows in the dark. The light he gives off, ever so faint, is...pretty, in a creepy, shimmery sort of way, and it's just enough in the darkness to reveal the keyhole. "I know that you've only recently begun to believe in ghosts," he says, amusement clear in the lilt of his words, "but do you believe in magic, Claude?"</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There stands a smaller staircase that spirals further down into the castle's depths from the back of the grand staircase in the main hall. Dimitri lingers long enough that Claude won't miss him traversing through its door, far less grand than those on the main floor. The passage would be pitch black if not for Dimitri's ghostly tricks: small, blue flames that burst to life within the sconces, though only once every few, for the sake of his eyes. Claude's interest is piqued immediately as soon as they pass through the unobtrusive door and start descending into the darkness. If Hilda were here, he thinks, she would probably be hissing at him to stop and consider the possibility that the prince might be leading him to his death, or maybe a fate even worse, and what kind of moron would follow a ghost into a deep dark underground place without knowing where they were going? But Claude feels no apprehension, for good or ill, and he isn't sure whether it's because he's that keen to know what's down here, because he trusts Dimitri that much, or--well, probably some mix of the two. After all, this is the ghost who outright refused to possess him just in case something might go wrong. "Wow, this really is deep under the castle, isn't it?" he says in a hushed voice, as he resists the urge to pull out his flashlight and marvels at the prince's ability to just...make fire out of nothing.</p><p>"I know not the story of this place; my father once said to me that the castle had been built here after they found these formations underground, and looking upon them in hindsight... I can see that being the case. But he also told me that it had become my mother's-- my birth mother's favorite place, when she was still with us."</p><p>It's a long journey. The darkness around them changes gradually and the air grows cold in spite of the torches Dimitri lights, which only grow in number the further they descend. The deeper they go, the more Claude can't help shivering occasionally...he did not dress for this. Eventually, Dimitri stops and turns to Claude, standing before a door different than the rest. It's carved from thick, dark wood and filled with numerous empty sockets that once, perhaps, contained something. "That stair behind you. The bottom-most one. Do you see the oddly colored brick there, at the end?"</p><p>Claude almost forgets the chill once he sees the door, which looks like something straight out of a movie. "Whoa..." He approaches it in awe, running his fingers over the empty sockets, before he turns and peers at the stairs. "Yeah! Is it a secret lock mechanism or something?" He goes back to the stairs to crouch and experiment with the weird brick, trying to push it in or pull it out, before Dimitri even gives him any instructions.</p><p>Dimitri chuckles. "Nothing so complicated. Should you pull it out, you ought to, I hope, find the key for this door... though that isn't to say that its locking mechanism <em>isn't</em> complicated. I suspect it to be the reason it's remained shut for all these years."</p><p>Claude carefully pulls the brick out and, sure enough, reaches into the space to find an oversized, ornate brass key. He pulls out his phone. "Close your eyes for a second, there's gonna be a flash," he warns, before he takes several pictures of the key and the door--and, just because he happens to be standing there, Dimitri too. The ghost looks thankful for the warning this time. "Okay, let's do this." Claude moves back to the door, key in hand, and examines it curiously to see what sort of 'complicated' it is.</p><p>Dimitri steps forward, too. Claude hadn't really noticed until just now that Dimitri sort of...glows in the dark. The light he gives off, ever so faint, is...pretty, in a creepy, shimmery sort of way, and it's just enough in the darkness to reveal the keyhole. "I know that you've only recently begun to believe in ghosts," he says, amusement clear in the lilt of his words, "but do you believe in magic, Claude?"</p><p>Claude lifts the key, about to slot it into the keyhole, but the question gives him pause. He lifts his eyebrows at Dimitri. "The fact that you're asking probably means that I should..." He thinks about it. "I guess it's not that I <em>don't</em>, just that I've never seen any evidence of it before. Anytime we've investigated so-called magic, it's always been a hoax or something." He looks up at the door, now. "I always wanted to believe in magic, though. When I was a kid. Then I learned that there's no such thing as a magic solution to your problems; you always have to solve them the hard way. So I stopped wanting that."</p><p>"You aren't wrong that there isn't such a thing as a magic solution... though I am happy to say that magic itself does indeed exist. Insert the key; do not turn it. The door will open of its own accord once the key's crystal resonates with the mechanism."</p><p>Claude eyes the key dubiously, but Dimitri hasn't steered him wrong yet, he supposes. "If magic exists, why doesn't anyone know about it now? Why did it get lost to history?--oh, I guess there's no way for you to know, is there."</p><p>"It isn't as though I don't have suspicions... but I can't say for certain. Not with my lack of knowledge regarding how it all played out, between then and now."</p><p>Claude nods and does as instructed, fitting the key into the keyhole and leaving it there without turning it, stepping back. "Now what?"</p><p>After a few moments of silence, the small stairwell fills with the low creak of the door, its mechanisms protesting against the magic coursing through, though they do give way. The door separates slowly from the doorframe, and a harsh blue light spills in from the other side. Dimitri turns to the other boy and nods, before going through. "Come on. Watch your eyes."</p><p>Claude watches the door open with a sort of hesitant excitement. He has no idea what to expect, and that's unusual for him; ordinarily, he wouldn't let himself get into a situation where he doesn't have a way to plan ahead in the first place. But ever since he met Dimitri, he's felt like anything could be around the next corner--like this castle contains so many secrets that he could spend his whole life here and still never learn them all. It's <em>captivating</em>.</p><p>The door opens to a sea of light, a cavern covered nearly floor to ceiling with glittering crystals of blues and greens and purples, and in between winds a narrow path that leads off into the distance. Dimitri stands amidst it and watches Claude with a smile, clearly anticipating his reaction, and he doesn't disappoint. Claude's eyes grow wide as he stares up at the cavern walls with their crystalline bounty, casting lurid light in cool colors over the both of them. "Oh, wow..." he breathes. He strays from the path to reach up and touch one of the crystals.</p><p>"It was found by accident," Dimitri explains, "when my ancestors first arrived here—they attempted at first to harvest them, though soon discovered their beauty when touched by moonlight and have since sought to leave them here, to steep in their innate magic. But there is more to show you."</p><p>"Wait, what innate magic? Do they do something?"</p><p>"I studied magic--practically, that is--for a few years, though its more concrete applications, I was never quite good at performing. But I was taught to think of it as one might consider food." The prince drifts along, ghostly feet stepping through the crystals, fingertips vanishing through those tall enough to reach his hip. "You eat food to replenish your energy, energy that you 'make' into something else. The effort you use to lift something, to swing a blade. Innate magic is the energy you 'make' into something else, just as well: the fire at your fingertips, the winds you unleash upon a battlefield, even the healing energies you pour over wounded allies. I know not what frame of reference you might have of magic, but it's quite versatile, provided its user has a purpose in mind for it."</p><p>The more Claude hears, the more this sounds like precisely the kind of thing he'd like to have up his sleeve as a backup plan or three. "I don't suppose you could teach me, could you?" Because otherwise, Claude's inclined to think that maybe the prince's mind has gotten a little scrambled over the centuries...or else he's messing with Claude, although that possibility seems less likely the more Claude gets to know him. He crouches to examine the floor, soon finding what he was looking for--a broken crystal shard, bright royal blue, about the size of a quarter. He picks it up and holds it up to the light, before tucking it into his pocket. "My frame of reference is basically nothing, unless you count fiction. I mean, I've studied wicca and other modern spiritual traditions from a cultural perspective, but other than that--" He shrugs.</p><p>"I only know magecraft in its theoretical stages, but... I suppose I am not unwilling to try, given that you have an interest in it. But I must warn you that if you haven't the innate talent for it, you may not ever be able to actually manifest any sort of progress, Claude." Dimitri gives the boy a thoughtful look before moving a little deeper into the cavern, at the end of which sits a larger formation of crystal bathing in slivers of moonlight from the ceiling. "From your reaction, it sounds to me as if it's gone through quite the decline. That is probably for the best."</p><p>"Is it?" But then Claude thinks about it some more. If what Dimitri says is true, it sounds like magic was as useful in war as it was for anything else. Given what the human race has done with what it already has at its fingertips... "Actually, you're right. It probably is." He follows the prince farther in, looking up at this new, larger crystal. "And hey, even if I don't have any talent for making fire out of nothing, learning <em>about</em> it is the next best thing. What's this?" He approaches the crystal.</p><p>"This?" Dimitri inspects it closely, fondness creeping over his features the closer he gets to the crystal until he stands but a few feet away, bathed in its light--a light that shines right through him. "I don't know," he says, and a little blunt humor trickles through. "I recall faintly that there were some scholars who believed it to be a gift from the Goddess, though I can't speak to such things. I know only that it's quite beautiful, and quite comforting, all the same."</p><p>"The Goddess, huh?" Claude comes to stand beside Dimitri and turns his gaze from the crystal to the prince. This is maybe the most emotion he's seen on the ghost's face thus far; he gets the feeling Dimitri's most comfortable with familiar things. But more than that, the ambient glow of the whole place gives it all a surreal but serene atmosphere, and Dimitri is a natural part of that, too. Claude feels suddenly like he's the dark cloud in an otherwise blue sky, or the ungainly rock jutting up out of elegantly flowing water. Like he doesn't belong here, in this ethereal place. He doesn't want to leave, though, not when it's so dazzling. All of it--the crystals, the light...and the prince, too, gentle blue light illuminating his blond hair from the inside as it passes through him, turning it into a kind of halo. "You're right, it is beautiful." ...that's when he realizes he's still looking at Dimitri. He hurriedly shifts his eyes to the crystal, hoping the ghost didn't notice.</p><p>"I know not all of its significance." If Dimitri's noticed, he doesn't interrupt this train of thought to make it known. "I have no doubt there were many who ascribed to this place such a significant meaning... but there was always something soothing about being here, rare as it was that I could flee here by my lonesome..." He glances over to Claude. "Earlier, you picked up a small shard. I wouldn't mind you taking a whole crystal, if you like. ...I could say the same of most things here: ask if you feel you must, but I couldn't begrudge you the things that pique your interest."</p><p>Maybe Teach will know something about this, Claude thinks--until Dimitri's words derail his train of thought again. "Really? But...I thought you hated it when people took things from here. And of course I'm going to ask--I do have <em>some</em> manners, you know." His smile suggests this last part is at least half-tease, though his eyes suggest it's half-serious, too.</p><p>"It isn't the same sort of taking when you have my permission, Claude..." But Dimitri gets it. He shrugs. "You either truly have no unseemly motivations for this place, or you are decent enough not to express them to my face. Regardless, I have little use for earthly things, and few qualms when I feel that you would treat anything here with respect."</p><p>"...well, I appreciate the vote of confidence. But I really just wanted to show one of these crystals to a friend of mine. They're into this kind of thing. --if that's okay with you, I mean." Is it sad, he thinks, that a thousand-year-old ghost gives him the benefit of the doubt when the majority of living humans he knows wouldn't? Yeah, that's pretty sad.</p><p>"It is, so long as our earlier understanding remains intact... and my offer will stand regardless." There's another smile from Dimitri, closer to his kinder and more genuine fare. The light of the crystals has faded somewhat, as the night goes on and the moon follows its path. Claude nods and smiles back. Dimitri really is trusting him an awful lot, for someone he just met, isn't he? Well, Claude knows just how valuable trust is, and he doesn't plan to betray this one. </p><p>The prince frowns suddenly. "It must be quite late, to be getting dark in here... Claude, were you planning on leaving soon?"</p><p>Claude blinks, glancing up to where the shifting moonbeams slowly wane. "Actually...no, not really. Unless you want me to. I didn't realize how late it was, but I'm not tired, and <em>you</em> don't sleep, and there's still a whole castle of clutter for me to pick up and letters to read and magic to study...uh, I guess what I mean is, do you mind if I stay? For a while?"</p><p>"I don't mind at all," Dimitri's quick to assure him. "But more than anything, I would be concerned. Admittedly, I still know so little of the world as it is now, but is it not still at least a little dangerous, roaming about in the dark?"</p><p>"It is, yeah..." That's never stopped Claude from wandering around in the middle of the night before, but then again...no one's ever expressed this kind of concern for him before, either. Sure, sometimes Hilda jokes that one of these days he's going to get mugged for all five of his dollars, but it's never like this. And his parents--well, the less said about the extent of their concern, the better. "...I guess I could just...stay the night? If that's okay."</p><p>"Of course, but..." Dimitri looks... a little sheepish, actually, as he looks around. "Are you certain that would be alright with you? This place, it's... not quite inviting. And I doubt I've any linens that aren't, ah... I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable."</p><p>"Ha, are you kidding? I've spent the night in much less comfortable places than this, trying to get a glimpse of some swamp gas or something. This place has a roof, that's already a bonus! Besides, I can sleep anywhere." Claude grins. "I once spent the night in an abandoned prison on an island in the middle of nowhere because the locals said it was haunted by the innocent souls who spent their lives wrongfully condemned there." He says this in a faux-dramatic tone, but then he pauses. "Which...I guess actually could have been the case, now that I think about it. Although I didn't see anything while I was there, except for a nest of rats and some very disturbing stains."</p><p>"Do not underestimate the resourcefulness of ghosts who wish not to be seen," the prince muses with a smile of his own.</p><p>"Trust me, after your disappearing acts, I have no illusions about being able to find a ghost who wants to hide." Claude searches among the crystals around them for one that's about the size of his fist and seems to gleam extra-bright in the waning moonlight, deciding that's the one he'll take to show Teach.</p><p>"In any case," says Dimitri, "I have no objections. I have just the room in mind, should you be ready to return upstairs?"</p><p>"Definitely ready--it's cold down here!"</p><p>"That it is." Dimitri says nothing of the crystal, only begins to follow that narrow path back toward the castle, and provides his own light when the light of the crystals starts to fade. Claude trails after him mostly without conversation, just processing everything for the moment. He's very good at adapting to new situations, good at opening his mind to learning new things, but even for him this has been kind of a lot. He thinks, if he didn't already know Teach he might not have been able to accept this magic stuff so easily...</p><p>It's a bit of a walk before they're stepping back out into the foyer, though Dimitri is soon to lead Claude into yet another new room, mostly barren save for a few mere pieces of furniture: the frame of a harp leaning against the wall, whose strings have long since vanished to time; an array of benches arranged around a low tea table, well worn and still vaguely dusty, even after Dimitri's efforts; but most notable is the grand fireplace on the far wall, which the ghost moves to light immediately. It bathes the room in the light of a great blue flame. "Will this do? It gets cold here in the night, so I wished to find someplace I could safely light you a fire."</p><p>Claude takes a short walk around the room to take it in, 'ooh'-ing over the harp frame and then laughing with delight at the blue flame roaring in the fireplace. "It's great! Maybe next time I'll bring a sleeping bag or something to keep here."</p><p>"Mm, I'm glad to hear it. We can continue for however long you want, assuming you've eaten enough."</p><p>Claude nods. "Yep, I'm full of pepperoni goodness and ready to get cracking. Do you play the harp?"</p><p>"I... wished to. It belonged to my stepmother." Dimitri can't help the sad smile that overtakes him when he gazes upon it, devoid now of the white paint and gold trim that used to adorn it... were it that he could reach out and touch it again. "Though my father wished to disallow me from touching it, after I broke one of its strings in my childhood... she was never loath to allow me to play it, so long as he wasn't around. I could do little more than pluck its strings, not truly make music, but I have fond memories of it all the same."</p><p>While Dimitri's eyes are on the harp, Claude's are on him. <em>The harp, huh?</em>  He's messed around with the guitar and a few other string instruments some, so the harp shouldn't be that hard, right? It'd probably be pricey to restring, but...he knows people. <em>Hmmm.</em> "I should bring my dad's oud over sometime. It's like a lute. I'm not that good at it, but I could practice."</p><p>"Oh? I see. I suppose I'm not surprised to hear that you have an interest in instruments." Dimitri spares Claude something of an appreciative glance.</p><p>"Really? How come?"</p><p>"You remind me of a friend I used to have, in some ways. Before... before everything, that is. They brought to me all sorts of odd things, trinkets and instruments I had never seen before... and they quite enjoyed making music, too." Without noticing, it seems, Dimitri's efforts to move back to the parlor have him going straight through the wall--a slightly less considerate path for his guest, admittedly...</p><p>"Oh yeah? What was their na--hey!" Claude hurries out of the room after Dimitri, laughing as he ducks through several doorways trying to figure out where the prince is off to. When he eventually finds him, he shakes his head. "Remind me never to play hide and seek with you...!"</p><p>Dimitri's answer is a sheepish look. "I'm sorry, I hadn't meant... it's been a long time since I was able to remember something of that sort."</p><p>"Really?" Claude plops down on the couch. "Actually, playing hide and seek with you sounds pretty fun, as long as you don't make it <em>too</em> hard." He gives Dimitri a wink, then digs into his backpack and pulls out a bottle of water to take a generous gulp. "So what was this friend of yours like? What was their name?"</p><p>Dimitri is back to sitting (pretending to sit) beside Claude. "Their name was Byleth... and they were quite odd. Very quiet, but also very energetic, in a way? The best that I could describe it... Byleth and their family weren't of the Kingdom, but they did a great deal in service to my family. Advisors, of a sort—they used magic as well, or at least Byleth did."</p><p>Claude squints a little, turning on the couch to face Dimitri. "Huh. That...kinda sounds like the friend I wanted to show the crystal to. What was their family name?"</p><p>"Ah." What exactly is he getting at, Dimitri wonders? He raises a brow, though is quick to oblige him regardless. "We-- or, I rarely ever referred to them by their family name, but... should I recall correctly, it was Eisner."</p><p>"I <em>knew</em> it." Claude's sitting forward now, water bottle forgotten in his hand. "That means Teach <em>has</em> to know something about all this. Maybe they're a ghost, too?!--no, I've seen them touch things. Maybe they're just...descended from this Byleth of yours? And their family has no imagination when it comes to naming kids?"</p><p>"What?" Dimitri sits forward suddenly too, sending himself tumbling through the lounge with his own momentum. He can't even bother to act shy about it once he does come back up from where he's lodged himself halfway through the floor. "What? Claude, what are you saying?"</p><p>"Whoa--" Claude half-reaches out to...help? Before realizing that makes no sense. He can't help laughing, though he tries to smother it and move on. "I'm saying, my friend and mentor the weirdo librarian with the new age fixation is Berith Eisner and that can't be a coincidence."</p><p>"I... I see. Perhaps it would be worth investigating, though... I can't say that I ever imagined..." But Dimitri supposes that Claude wouldn't know just how miraculous it is. Dimitri settles himself again, calm once more. "When the castle was besieged, it was Byleth to whom I entrusted the safety of my people. They must have survived, at least long enough to continue their family line... this is a realization that brings me a great deal of comfort."</p><p>Claude smiles. "Oh, then that's great news! I bet Teach can tell me more about what happened to Faerghus after you died. Maybe I'll even record them talking about it and just show it to you. If they'll let me, sometimes they get touchy about the weirdest things. I'd have to translate the sign language but at least you'd see them."</p><p>The mention of translation has Dimitri perk up. "Oh! Well, unless the signs are so drastically different, that will not be necessary... though that does sadden me, to hear that they may also be afflicted in such a way."</p><p>"Wait, <em>really?</em>  This is getting--well, spooky, for lack of a better word. Unless that sort of thing is genetic? But a thousand years is a hell of a long time...well anyway, suffice it to say that Teach has a lot of explaining to do."</p><p>"Hopefully you do not intend to run off and harass this teacher of yours tonight?"</p><p>"Tempting, but nah. You've already made your case about roaming around at night, and besides, you made a nice, warm, blue fire just for me! I don't plan to turn that down." Claude tilts his head. "Why <em>is</em> it blue?"</p><p>"It... simply is blue, I suppose." Dimitri looks to the fire with questions in his own eyes, too. Has he truly not noticed? "It has been this way ever since I became like this, I guess?"</p><p>"Huh. Must be a ghost thing. If I ever meet any others, I'll let you know if theirs are blue, too." Claude grins.</p><p>Dimitri smiles in return and stands again to survey the room. There's still a great deal left to do, not that the prince intends to let Claude work himself much more tonight; from the sound of things, he'll have quite a conversation in store for tomorrow... "I will hold you to that." The candles flare just slightly, renewed to better light the room. "Come now. A little while longer before we stop for the night—there's something here on this shelf I would like to ask you about..."</p><p>They spend another hour or so digging through Dimitri's old belongings and de-cluttering floors strewn with pieces of ancient history. Finally, despite Claude's insistence that he still isn't tired, Dimitri declares it time for him to sleep and cites the yawns he keeps muffling as evidence. Claude's agreement is reluctant at first, but sleeping in a drafty, old, abandoned castle has never before been as pleasant as this. Although he's just using his backpack as a pillow and his sweatshirt as a blanket, Dimitri's ghostly fire in the fireplace is plenty warm enough, and the blue light has a strangely calming effect. Claude ends up falling asleep much more easily than usual, and his dreams are filled with azure.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Grasping the Past</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Berith steers him back toward the door, with purpose. 'Go. Keep him from fading.' Claude's eyes widen at the instruction. So he was right. It is possible. Hope surges through him as he watches Berith rifle through a drawer and draw out a thin chain holding a clear stone. The librarian brings it to their lips and mutters something under their breath. As the crystal on the necklace fills with a soft, purple light, they thrust the pendant into Claude's palm. 'Leave in moonlight at night. For him.'</p><p>Claude stares at it with curiosity and a bit of wonder until they return to the library proper. "Wait, wait--he's trapped in the castle, because he died there, but there's a way to fix that, right?"</p><p>'Possible.'</p><p>Claude makes a face--of course, Berith isn't going to tell him <i>how</i>--but he can do some research himself later. For now, he has a delivery to make. "Thanks, Teach. I'll let you know how it goes." He stuffs the bundle into his camping backpack along with everything else he brought from home to take to the castle. Then, forgetting entirely that he told Hilda he would meet up with her after his trip to the library, he gets on his bike and races back out of town as fast as he can pedal.</p>
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    <p>The next day, Claude bikes home to shower and change quickly before hurrying to the library, only barely remembering to grab a bite to eat on his way out. He's got a voicemail from Hilda asking when he plans to give her that further explanation he promised--he turned off his ringer at the castle, not wanting to startle Dimitri if it rang while he was asleep or something--and he texts her to let her know he's off to see Berith but afterward, he swears! The librarian at the front desk gives him a nod, and he has to fight not to run on his way to the special collections room in the back. He pauses only long enough to poke his head in and make sure Berith is there before he strides in and plants his hands firmly on the desk, leaning forward. "Teach! You've been holding out on me all this time." He reaches into his sweatshirt pocket to pull out the crystal and plunks it down on the desk between them. "Tell me about <em>this</em>."</p><p>He almost startles Berith with how suddenly he appears in front of their desk; they don't jump, per se, but their eyes flicker quickly from his face to the odd crystal, and then back again. They lift their hands to sign: 'What about it?' Then they take the crystal into their fingers, ever carefully, and lift it slowly from the desk to inspect it under the light.</p><p>"I found it in a cave deep underground underneath an abandoned castle, behind a <em>magic door</em>." Claude straightens up and folds his arms, as though Berith couldn't see the barely contained excitement in his eyes. "And I bet you know the name Blaiddyd, don't you?"</p><p>Berith blinks. 'I'm a historian. I know.' They don't seem intent on making too many concessions... but they also don't hide the interest they've taken in this crystal, either, even if the brunt of Claude's explanation seems to have slipped right past them. '... an abandoned castle. The Royal Faerghan castle then?'</p><p>"That's the one. But it's not as <em>abandoned</em> as I thought." Claude manages to hold his mysterious facade for a few seconds longer before he sighs and hops up to sit on Berith's desk. "Teach, there's a <em>ghost</em> living there. Uh...well, not...living, I guess. Technically. But he's real! A real ghost. Just...hanging out there for the last thousand years."</p><p>Berith doesn't respond for a while, merely sets the crystal down gingerly on their desk, and slowly folds their hands behind it. They study his expression, though their own stays ever blank. Their fingers untangle to sign again: 'You don't believe in ghosts, Claude.'</p><p>"I didn't believe in ghosts <em>last</em> week." He shrugs, a bit sheepish. "It's a little harder not to believe in them when there's one sitting right in front of you making a table float, though. To be honest, I surprised myself with how easily I believed him, but...he has this way of being so painfully earnest that it's impossible <em>not</em> to. Plus my hand went right through him." By contrast, he isn't sheepish at all about having apparently stuck his hand through a dead person. "Have you ever heard of a Prince Dimitri Blaiddyd?"</p><p>'Like I said. I'm a historian.' But the librarian seems to be going back over his words now. After some few moments in silence, they lean back in their chair, and eye him carefully. 'Tell me about it.'</p><p>Claude does exactly that, leaving nothing out (other than his little slip-up when he accidentally, sort of on purpose, called Dimitri beautiful...). He tells Berith about the magic door, and about how the prince offered to teach him magical theory - another thing Claude didn’t believe in last week. And although he doesn’t outright say he plans to go back later today, he doesn't hide that it's obviously his intent, either.</p><p>Berith is patient in listening, and they don't utter a word until after his story tapers off for good. There's a great deal they want to know yet, but Berith can see clear as day that Claude is a little more overwhelmed than he would willingly show. They stand, sparing the boy a glance before moving to an unmarked door behind their desk. Even after it's unlocked, Berith doesn't close it behind them once they walk inside.</p><p>Claude's brows lift - he’s always wondered what was behind that door, but every time he asked, Berith just shrugged like it was nothing important. He follows them eagerly, getting his phone ready to take pictures for Dimitri even though he has no idea what Berith might be showing him here. The thought briefly enters his mind that if this were anyone else, he might suspect them of bringing him to their hidden murder closet and taking him out for knowing too much or something...but this is Teach, right? Right. He’s...<em>mostly</em> confident that wouldn’t happen.</p><p>It is not, in fact, a hidden murder closet from the looks of things—though it's just as dark inside, until the room bursts into view at the lighting of candles, dozens if not hundreds of them all at once. They're scattered about the room, on shelves and tables, and in holders fastened to the walls. Claude's eyes widen even as he blinks in the sudden light. The books and shelves outside are dusty and untouched, but not a thing in this room possesses even a single mote of it, despite the general organized chaos of it all. The room is lined floor to ceiling with a series of shelves and cabinets brimming with all sorts of things, old tomes and odd, fanciful... disturbing objects of all sorts.</p><p>Claude takes a slow walk around the room to peer at everything before returning to Berith's side as they stride past a large desk covered in layer after layer of documents, to the far wall; on it is mounted a huge spear of some kind, kept in immaculate condition, though made not of metal. An array of pale bones protrudes from the shaft of the weapon, not particularly sharp in appearance and yet all the more foreboding for it. Claude pauses in front of the spear...there's something deeply unsettling about it, and at the same time something incredibly impressive. He can't help feeling like he really wants to take it down from the wall and hold it...maybe <em>use</em> it, although he's never even held a spear in his life. </p><p>The librarian takes pause beneath it, where a stand supports a set of armor, dark as midnight and draped in a thick, fur mantle. They glance to Claude, then, yet still without a word. Claude comes to stand before the armor with an eerie feeling of deja vu. He looks it over with a sharp eye in silence. It's about the same size as the one Dimitri showed him and has the same general style, down to the blue cape, even if this one seems a bit less fancy. But this suit is punctured in multiple places--too many places for anyone to survive the blows that made them. Dimitri did say that he'd insisted on wearing his own armor toward the end of his life rather than his father's, and that he didn't know what had happened to it... Claude reaches out to touch the dark steel. "This is his, isn't it?"</p><p>Berith nods. Their eyes flicker back to the armor and a hand lifts, drifting over its planes, lingering on the holes and deep scratches that mar it. 'This is the armor his body was found in. We've been preserving it.' They pause before their attention moves elsewhere, to the mantle and cape behind the suit itself. The cape shines a brilliant blue even under the candlelight, faded not even minutely by time, and the crest of Blaiddyd is emblazoned in stark black thread across it. 'Same as everything else.'</p><p>Claude abruptly feels a little colder, though the temperature in the room hasn't changed. This is the armor Dimitri's body was found in--the armor he died in. His mind's eye imagines it unbidden--Dimitri, wearing this, a little older than he appears in death and desperately fighting to protect his people... Watching Berith sign, Claude shifts his hand to the cape, running his fingers over the sigil just as before. "When you say 'we,' you mean your family, right? Preserved how?" He turns to look around the room. <em>This is </em>all<em> Dimitri's, then.</em> "And that means his people survived, right? What happened to them?"</p><p>They hesitate, but Berith does, eventually, shake their head. 'We preserve it because they didn't.' There's something... not quite stern in their gaze, but heavy. Serious in a way that Berith often isn't; somehow, this isn't the librarian that usually dozes off at their desk in special collections. 'Or, the people did. A few of them. Faerghus didn't. Faerghans didn't.'</p><p><em>Oh, no.</em> Claude's face falls, remembering how excited the prince was to hear that those he died to defend might have lived. "Did they at least survive that battle, when Dimitri stayed behind at the castle to protect them? When your great-great-whatever was leading them to safety?"</p><p>'I can't say.' It's nearly imperceptible, but their eyebrows twitch, almost drawing together. 'From my understanding... from the writings, they were all separated after they fled. To hide them. Help them assimilate. I don't know what happened to any of them after that.'</p><p>Claude's quiet for a moment. "There has to be a way to find out, right?" He glances up then, from the cape to Berith's eyes, looking sad but also strangely determined. "He died trying to save them. If he failed...well, I can't tell him that."</p><p>'That was a thousand years ago, Claude.' Berith moves away now, back toward the desk, and leans their weight against it. 'The whole point was for them to be hidden. So that they wouldn't be targeted after the crown fell. If there's anything that exists saying otherwise, I don't have it.'</p><p>”I know.” Claude sighs. It doesn’t <em>feel</em> like it was a thousand years ago to him, learning about it all right now. “I just wanted some good news to bring him, I guess.” Then he brightens. “But I do have good news - all of this, and you!” He lifts his phone and begins to take pictures of everything in the room, starting with the armor and the spear. Then he points the camera at Berith and pauses. “Can I show him a picture of you? It sounded like he was good friends with your ancestor, I bet he’d appreciate it.” They don't say yes, but they don't say no, so Claude just...presses the button. “What else is here? Tell me about everything. He’ll want to know. And maybe I can take some of it back to him. He likes it when he can remember more details about his life.” He says this totally casually, like all of this is completely normal.</p><p>Berith pushes themselves from the desk and crosses the room again. Claude watches with interest as a little fiddling frees the cape with its mantle from the stand, and Berith turns back to Claude with the whole thing folded over their arms, bundling it with ease. It's set on the desk, and soon joined by something else—a dagger fetched from a glass case nearby. Berith slips them both into a black fabric bag, utterly nondescript, and offers it to Claude. 'Give these. Tell me what happens.'</p><p>“Okay...I’d ask what you mean by ‘what happens’ but you wouldn’t tell me anyway. Man, I hate it when you out-mysterious me!” Claude takes the bag and tucks it under one arm. “You don’t think I should bring back his spear? That seems like a big deal, right?”</p><p>They shake their head, though their reasoning isn't as ultra-mysterious as Claude is likely hoping. 'Broad daylight.'</p><p>”Oh. Right. Next time I’ll be sure to come at the witching hour.” Claude winks, then takes one more look around the room. “He gave me permission to take some of his father’s letters and things to read, would you want to see any of them? Who’s Rodrigue?”</p><p>It takes a few seconds for Berith's response to come. 'No. That's okay. He was the protector. Shielded the family.' They settle their hands on Claude's shoulders and steer him back toward the door, with purpose. 'Go. Keep him from fading.' Claude's eyes widen at the instruction. So he was right. It <em>is</em> possible. Hope surges through him as he watches Berith rifle through a drawer and draw out what appears to be a pendant of some sort, a thin chain holding a clear stone. The librarian brings it to their lips and mutters something under their breath. As the crystal on the necklace fills with a soft, purple light, they take one of Claude's hands and thrust the pendant into his palm. 'Leave in moonlight at night. For him.'</p><p>Claude stares at it with curiosity and a bit of wonder. "Oh...yeah, he did say the crystals under the castle soak up moonlight or something." It's not until they get back out into the library proper that Claude remembers--he turns with one more urgent question. "Wait, wait--he's trapped in the castle, because he died there, but there's a way to fix that, right?"</p><p>Their response takes a few seconds to come. 'Possible.'</p><p>Claude makes a face--of course, Berith isn't going to tell him <em>how</em>--but he can do his own research later. For now, he has a delivery to make. "Thanks, Teach. I'll let you know how it goes." He stuffs the bundle into his camping backpack along with everything else he brought from home to take to the castle. Then, forgetting entirely that he told Hilda he would meet up with her after his trip to the library, he gets on his bike and races back out of town as fast as he can pedal.</p><hr/><p>When Claude arrives at the hillside ruin, he's catching his breath as he knocks on the door. It opens once again to reveal Dimitri on the other side, looking more solid now with the late afternoon sun ducking behind the clouds. "You and I ought to stop meeting in this way, Claude," he says with a twinkle in his eye, and beckons for the boy to enter. Claude blinks. <em>Did--did Dimitri just--</em> He laughs, taken off-guard, as he comes inside and hurries to the parlor.</p><p>"You seem as if you were in quite a rush again," Dimitri says as the door closes on its own behind them. "Did... something happen?"</p><p>Claude plops his backpack down on the couch. "Yeah--but don't worry, it's nothing bad! I went to see Teach, and it turns out they did know all about you and your family. Not only that, they've got a whole room of your things that the Eisners have preserved all this time! Well, Blaiddyd things, at least. And your armor--uh...the other one, the one you were wearing when...when you died. And a huge spear made out of bones or something. <em>And,</em> look at this!" He opens up the pack and pulls out the bundle, first unwrapping it to lay the dagger on the table and then following it with the folded cape and its mantle. He unfolds it carefully and holds it up; he has to lift it above his head to stop it from trailing on the floor. "Oh, tell me if you need me to describe anything to you. The dagger has inscriptions and stuff."</p><p>Dimitri doesn't seem to know what to do with this information, though he's snapped quickly from his stupor at the sight of Claude brandishing not only his cape, but... The prince steps forward, reaches a hand toward the dagger out of habit, though he knows it to be for naught. Seeing it look this way, practically... identical, really, to how it looked during his life so long ago, he doesn't know what to think. "That will not be necessary," he says, a little hoarsely. "I... I recall what the inscriptions say. I-- this is...."</p><p>Claude sits down on the couch and carefully folds the cape again to rest it in his lap, looking up at the prince. "What is it?" he asks softly.</p><p>"I-I apologize, it's merely... it's a little overwhelming." Dimitri moves to follow suit, though it takes him more than one try to 'seat' himself. He must truly be shaken. "I hadn't... seeing this, so well preserved... I hadn't been expecting it, that is all. This was my father's mantle, and..."</p><p>Claude places the mantle on the cushions between them as a way of 'handing' it to Dimitri. Clearly, 'that is all' isn't entirely true. Claude picks up the dagger, now, holding it gingerly in both hands and looking at it more closely. He can't read the inscriptions, written in a language he doesn't recognize, but he runs his thumb over them and finds the same sigil as the one on the cape engraved on the hilt. "And what?" he coaxes. This must be what Berith meant by 'see what happens.'</p><p>Dimitri's fingers drift through the mantle when he lowers his hand and lets it linger close enough to test such a thing... not that he seems surprised. There's something else behind that melancholy look in his eye. "This was my father's, and seeing it like this... I have missed him always, but it has been so long since I've recalled him as vividly as I do now."</p><p>Claude smiles, watching him. "That's a good thing, right? Remembering vividly?" Teach told him to keep the prince from fading, which means Claude was right about the sorts of things that could help stop it from happening. If he can anchor the ghost to the world by bringing him things from Berith's stash, he'll empty that room of everything down to its last speck of dust if he has to. "What about this?" He places the dagger down on top of the folded mantle.</p><p>Dimitri breathes deeply. "The dagger was mine. You may be able to think of it as a coming of age gift, of sorts. A symbol to express that my people recognized me as their crown prince. The inscription is a poem written in the Old Tongue... by tradition, the king himself would write it for his heir." He smiles, and brushes a ghostly fingertip over the words, hovering. "It was meant to symbolize... the ability to cut my own path. To lead my people with bravery... and to defend them, with all that I possess."</p><p>Claude's a progressive sort of guy. He believes in democracy and a voice for everyone, in equality and tolerance, in fairness and an end to divisions between people. He's never in his life considered monarchy a good thing. He doesn't even believe in gods, let alone any kind of divine right to rule. But as he pulls his feet up onto the couch and wraps his arms around his knees, resting his head on them to watch the prince in this moment, he thinks for once he can understand the draw. If every king were like Dimitri, having one might not be <em>so</em> bad. "It sounds to me like you did exactly that. ...Teach says that while you were holding the enemy back, Byleth scattered your people so they could hide and avoid getting targeted."</p><p>A grin blooms slowly on Dimitri's face. "For Byleth to have survived and the Eisners to have lived on... I already had faith that they were successful, and this only reaffirms it, in my mind." How long has it been since he last felt this warm? He rubs his hands over his face, a quick gesture he doesn't bother explaining. "I must thank you, Claude, and... this 'teach' of yours."</p><p>"Hey, look at that. You're smiling!"</p><p>"Are you so surprised?" But Dimitri thinks he knows what Claude means.</p><p>"Not surprised--just glad. It seems like you haven't had too many reasons to really smile for a long time, so you're past due!"</p><p>"This means a great deal to me," Dimitri says, "so much so that I would think myself indebted to you."</p><p>Claude shakes his head. "No way. If anything, I'm paying you back for cleaning up the castle for me and showing me everything--but I prefer to think of it as just something friends do for each other."</p><p>Dimitri struggles against the urge to insist that what the other boy has done for him far outweighs anything a mere friend would do, and then a thought occurs to him. "You truly think of us as friends?"</p><p>Claude lifts his head up from his knees in surprise. "Of course I do. Don't you? We've been hanging out together and everything."</p><p>"Well... you will have to pardon my disbelief that anyone would wish to be friends with a dead person." Dimitri seems happier for having heard it, though, beaming with a smile he can't contain. "N-not that I would begrudge you for such a decision! I merely... I haven't had a friend since... you know."</p><p><em>Look at that smile...wow.</em> Claude opens his mouth intending to say something flippant, but instead what comes out is, "Lots of people don't want to be friends with me, either, just because of who I am. So I know how that feels, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I don't see any reason why you being dead should matter. I like you for who you are."</p><p>"Why?" Dimitri doesn't mean to ask it so brusquely, or perhaps even at all, but it's the first thing out of his mouth. "I mean--why wouldn't they want to? You've... been nothing but incredibly considerate, and so very nice. You're good at listening—and at talking. I'm glad to call you my friend."</p><p>A faint dusting of pink colors Claude's cheeks. "Ha, well, 'good at talking' is definitely something people say about me. They don't mean it as a compliment." He lays his head back down to look at nothing. "I don't know what it was like when you lived here, but my dad is from another country and I lived there for a long time, before I came here. And everyone here hates me for it. Par for the course. Plus everyone thinks I'm 'strange,' whatever that's supposed to mean. I always thought the fact that everyone's so different was a good thing, but..." He shrugs.</p><p>Dimitri considers his words carefully, and even goes so far as to mimic Claude's pose somewhat, drawing his legs up to 'rest' his feet on the couch. Horribly improper for a living prince, less so for a dead one. "Well, I certainly do mean it as a compliment. All of it. The thought of you having come from elsewhere is a thing to be intrigued about, not something to hate you for... but I suppose that I can't be surprised. Such prejudices were not uncommon in my lifetime, either."</p><p>"Ah, I was afraid you were going to say that. But anyway," Claude says as he turns back to Dimitri again, "thanks. If you were able to pick up a water bottle, I'd propose a toast: to embracing differences. Heh." Then he remembers-- "Oh! Teach said it could be possible to let you leave the castle. So I was doing some googling--uh...research--and some stories say that a ghost is anchored to the place they haunt, but others say it's not the place but something important that's <em>in</em> the place." He stands, with a sudden burst of energy. "So what's the most important personal thing to you in the castle?"</p><p>If Dimitri's hesitation is any indication, that's quite the difficult question to answer. "I... that is... hm." Remembrance lights up his face, briefly. "Have you by chance seen any rings lying around the castle in the days that you've been here? There was... a signet ring, bearing the crest of Blaiddyd, that I inherited from my father... I know not what happened to it."</p><p>"Nope, haven't seen one. But I'll go find it!" Claude grabs a bottle of water, his flashlight for after the sun goes down, his phone, and a few protein bars. "And I'll be on the lookout for your poem. Anything else you want me to look for?"</p><p>"Ah... please, you're already doing so much for me as it is." It's something Dimitri seems earnest in his distress over. It isn't as if he's free to do something for Claude in return, not really. "But, as I said earlier... my point still stands that if something should pique your interest, you are more than welcome to it."</p><p>"Nah, I'm doing this for me--so I can hang out with you more often without having to bike back and forth so much." It's only a partial truth, but who's counting?</p><p>The search takes hours, partially because Claude's looking for something tiny in a giant castle, and partially because he occasionally has to stop to pick the locks on doors or drawers, but also because he keeps getting caught up in looking at other things he finds along the way. Things are even slower going once it gets dark outside. By the time he finds the remains of a leather pouch tucked away in a corner of what was probably the room adjacent to stables that once stood here, judging by the rusted equestrian gear, the sun's been down for a while. But among those remains are several interesting things, including a ring that seems to fit Dimitri's description, a sealed parchment envelope, and some gold coins with unfamiliar markings. He brings those back with him to the parlor, along with another sheet of parchment he found folded inside the cover of a book and an ornate frame containing a half-rotted canvas whose painting is long-faded in many places and chewed on by vermin in others.</p><p>Upon returning, Claude lays his findings out on the table in triumph. "Ah, I love a good scavenger hunt, don't you?"</p><p>Dimitri is quick to get a fire going as soon as the other boy comes back. "You truly weren't holding back," comes his amazed response. He takes a good look at this spread of items... and pauses with a soft 'ah' on the old painting.</p><p>"I brought that because the frame has your name on it, but the painting itself is mostly ruined. Do you remember what it looked like?"</p><p>"Yes... yes, this was the portrait made of me just before I was to ascend the throne—not very long before my death." Dimitri is deep in thought now, leaning in close, and lips pursed.</p><p>Claude scoots closer on the couch to peer at the canvas, too. "Wish I could have seen it. All dressed up like a king, you must have looked so dashing and regal!" He grins.</p><p>"Ah...h-hardly." Best to move on to something else, Dimitri thinks, lest he discover he can still somehow blush as a ghost. "Er, what else did you find...?"</p><p><em>Wow, for a king, he sure is shy. And modest. I bet people used to walk all over him. Because that's what people do.</em> Claude shakes himself out of that line of thinking to focus on the rest of his findings. "This--" He indicates the single sheet of parchment-- "Looks like your poem, or at least <em>a</em> poem. Pretty handwriting. And this stuff is all from where I think there used to be stables?" He gestures toward the little pile. "It's a bunch of coins and a sealed envelope... <em>and</em> a signet ring! Ta-daaaa."</p><p>Not that it all hasn't caught the prince's attention, but the mention of the ring is particularly striking. Dimitri perks up. "Yes... yes, that's the ring. I suppose that if I were to have tethered myself to anything in this place, it... well, the ring is the one thing of value to me that has been here this entire time. Your research... what else has it borne? What are we... supposed to do, now that the ring is found?"</p><p>"Well...I didn't have time to find much more than that, so far. So I don't know! It doesn't feel any different to you than anything else here, does it?"</p><p>"Feel? No, I... nothing that I can discern, not really. Am I supposed to, do you think?"</p><p>Claude shrugs. "I've never been a ghost before, so I have no idea." He eyes the ring thoughtfully. "What if I just...took it outside to see what happens?"</p><p>This kind of talk inspires a sudden nervousness in Dimitri, but... does he really have a reason to object? So the prince sort of... shrugs. "I... see no reason not to try, I suppose."</p><p>Claude brightens immediately. "Okay! Here we go." He picks up the ring and holds it carefully in his open palm as he heads toward the front door. "Just stick with me, okay? And if you start to feel like...uh...whatever you feel like when you try to leave the castle, let me know and I'll stop."</p><p>Dimitri does as he's told, in spite of the bout of anxiety that overtakes him... though when he follows Claude over the threshold, there's no sudden dizziness, no losing his footing as there was the few times in the past he attempted to leave. He stays close to Claude, enough that their arms would brush if they were able. The prince waits for that nausea to overcome him, but it never does. He looks to Claude, baffled, as he stands a meter from the door. "This is... farther than I've ever gone."</p><p>Claude's grin is broad and gleeful, as he laughs. "Yes! That means it worked! Probably. Want to go a little farther to make sure?"</p><p>"S-sure." Nervous or no, Dimitri's... excited.</p><p>Claude fights down a weird urge to try to grab Dimitri's hand--it wouldn't work anyway, and also, why?--and instead just keeps walking slowly, farther and farther away from the door, until they reach the spot where Claude left his bike lying on the grass. He turns to look at the prince, evaluating. "Still with me? Everything still okay? What <em>does</em> usually happen when you try to leave, anyway?"</p><p>Dimitri is, in fact, still with Claude, though that isn't to say he's not glancing around like a deer in headlights. "Back before I had given up trying... it would make me incredibly dizzy. Do you know how it feels when you get lightheaded, and your vision starts to blur? It was... something akin to that." He glances down at Claude's bike with a note of disbelief in the sound that leaves him. "It... must be the ring, then."</p><p>"Yeah!" Claude's grin turns a bit impish, as he slides his foot under the bike and levers it up into his hand, pulling it upright. "Want to go for a ride?"</p><p>"I am hardly in a state to... ride anything, Claude." But Dimitri gets the gist. He casts an uncertain glance around. "Where... where would we be going?"</p><p>Claude tells himself Dimitri probably didn't mean that the way it sounded. Probably. "Nowhere in particular, unless you want to go all the way into town. But I thought we could just ride around here a little bit, that way we wouldn't run into anybody. Plus, you'd never even <em>seen</em> a bicycle before I got here, let alone ridden one. It's fun!" He does pause to give the prince another look, though. "You can keep up with me while you pretend to sit on the bike, right?"</p><p>Dimitri considers it for a minute, debating internally, before shaking his head. "Likely not. I will merely have to follow behind." Just like that, Dimitri vanishes, without a warning or so much as a trace left behind.</p><p>"Whoa--" Claude turns around fully twice in searching for Dimitri, looking almost comical in his half-panic.</p><p>But soon the prince speaks again, despite his apparent absence. "Go where you would like."</p><p>Claude sighs with relief. "Don't scare me like that! I thought you...you know. Disappeared. I mean, for real." He slides the ring onto his middle finger--the only one big enough for it not to slip off easily--so he can take the handlebars in both hands and mount up. "So...how exactly are you doing that? Should I go slow to make sure I don't leave you behind?"</p><p>"No, you can go as quickly as you like. I don't have to feign moving as if I'm alive. Walking or running, you know." How odd it is, hearing him as if he were all around and simultaneously far enough that only the wind carries his voice back.</p><p>Well, Claude thinks, that confirms his earlier suspicions about Dimitri intentionally acting like he was alive even when it wasn't necessary. He suppresses the urge to look around again as the prince's voice drifts to him from nowhere, instead pushing off and starting to pedal, gradually picking up speed.</p><p>After a moment, Dimitri's voice comes again: "...I'm sorry. I hadn't meant to scare you."</p><p>"Hey, it's fine. I just didn't want to lose you out here." <em>Wait...</em> "--uh, I mean, I didn't want you to be gone." <em>Very smooth. What the hell?</em></p><p>Somehow, the ghost's smile is audible. "You will not lose me, Claude, I swear it."</p><p><em>That...sure is a response, isn't it?</em>  Coming from someone else, Claude would have assumed it was faux drama, for laughs--he and Hilda do that kind of thing all the time. But from Dimitri it sounds real, like he's actually making some kind of solemn vow. Despite that sounding hilariously old-fashioned to Claude, it actually is weirdly comforting.</p><p>When next Dimitri speaks, his voice sinks slightly lower, as if he's suddenly only now aware of what they're doing. "It's so odd... to see it all like this. I hadn't... I didn't think that it all could have changed so much..."</p><p>Claude looks around at the moon shining brightly on overgrown fields and power lines, with a dark treeline marking a patch of woods not too far away. Farther in the distance he can see a farmhouse or two, a water tower, a slowly blinking cell tower, and the highway with the occasional passing car. He wonders if Dimitri can see the headlights from here. "What was it like when you lived here?"</p><p>Silence reigns briefly, but it isn't very long before Dimitri's voice interrupts the breeze. "All of this... all of this was a town. Our castle town. You could only see the edge of it from the castle itself, from the very top..." After so long, it isn't longing in his voice, more... nostalgia, perhaps. "It was always lively, even after the sun went down. There were immense squares, lit up by bonfires—when you sat down for your supper, it wasn't only your own family you ate with. You broke bread with your friends, your neighbors... oftentimes we would invite the people into the castle so that we too could take our meals with them. It was... it was something to behold."</p><p>Claude tries to imagine it, thinking back to pictures he's seen in books, drawings of medieval towns. It's disheartening to think that there was a whole town here once and now there's no trace of it at all. The concept isn't new, obviously--he's been to plenty of ruins and museums, studied plenty of places that no longer exist. But hearing about it straight from someone who once lived there is different. "That sounds...really nice. I live in the city, things aren't really like that there. Although it has its own charms, and I do sometimes have dinner or coffee with my neighbors in the apartment building." He picks up speed again, letting the cold wind pick up too, whipping his hair around wildly as he grins into it. "So what do you think? Better than riding a horse?"</p><p>"Seeing as I am not actually riding it, I would think I couldn't speak on such a thing... though I doubt that anything could be better than riding a horse."</p><p>”You’re only saying that because you’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”</p><p>Claude's words clearly have the prince thinking, because for a short while, the boy's only company is the wind's soft howl. Claude lets his mind wander in the quiet, thinking about what Dimitri’s town might have been like, and his father, and the war... </p><p>"Did you want to go home, Claude? It sounds... overwhelming. But I-I would like to see it."</p><p>“Really? Well, it’s not much—definitely nothing like a castle—but I’d love to show it to you. You should probably stay hidden until we get inside, though, we’ll probably run into people.”</p><p>"Ah. Yes, of course..." Just how many people there might be has Dimitri wondering, though he'll only end up making himself worry more and more if he keeps on like this. "Still, I'm looking forward to it. My only frame of reference for how the world has changed thus far has been the things that you tell me, and what little I could glean whenever someone should enter the castle in the past."</p><p>"Well, buckle up, because I think the city's really gonna wow you." Claude grins, soon turning onto the path that leads, in due time, to his apartment. And in all this time, he never does remember that he was supposed to see Hilda today.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://twitter.com/missdhiarmada/status/1240765625129226240?s=20">Here</a> is a piece of art that goes with this fic!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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